387A 


R   H   E   S  A 

A  Romance  of  Babylon 


BY 

WALTER  BLISS  NEWGEON 


THE  RAYMOND  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
NEW   HAVEN,    CONN. 


.  OP  CALIF.  LIBRABY,  LOS  ANGELES 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
BY  R.  E.  NEWGEON 


All  Rights  Reserved 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  WINGED  LIONS x 

II  A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT 13 

III  THE  GOLDEN  CITY 26 

IV  HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE 37 

V  HEBER'S  DECISION 47 

VI  A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE 53 

VII  THE  FIRST  BLOW  FOR  ZION     ........  62 

VIII  THE  CONFLICT 70 

IX  MAN  TO  MAN 78 

X  THE  RESCUE 85 

XI  THE  GREAT  PROCESSION 93 

XII  THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  GODS 102 

XIII  THE  INAUGURAL  BANQUET in 

XIV  IN  THE  QUEEN'S  APARTMENTS 117 

XV  'TwixT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION 123 

XVI  BENEATH  THE  EUPHRATES 132 

XVII  AN  OFFER  OF  LIFE 138 

XVIII  A  FRIEND  IN  NEED 145 

XIX  THREE  WOMEN 153 

XX  FAREWELL  TO  HOME 160 

XXI  A   REBEL  IN   PRISON 168 

XXII  HEBER'S  QUEST 175 

XXIII  THE  ARAB  MERCHANT 183 


2132001 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXIV    VULMARAN'S  VISIT 


XXV  ENEMY  OR  FRIEND     ...........  *9* 

XXVI  ALAS  FOR  JUDAH!     .     ..........  207 

XXVII  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY      .......  212 

XXVIII  ON  THE  MARCH       ...........  221 

XXIX  VOICES  IN  THE  WOODS    ..........  228 

XXX  PRIEST  AND  BANKER      ..........  235 

XXXI  THE  HANGING  GARDENS     .........  243 

XXXII  A  WORD  OF  WARNING  ..........  252 

XXXIII  ORMA  AND  BELSHAZZAR     .........  260 

XXXIV  THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP     ........  267 

XXXV  A  DEFIANCE  AND  A  PROPHECY     .......  276 

XXXVI  THE  MESSENGER       ...........  283 

XXXVII  ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER  .........  291 

XXXVIII  INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS     .........  300 

XXXIX  To  THE  FRONT    ............  312 

XL  THE  TEST  OF  ARMS      ..........  322 

XLI  THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR     ........  331 

XLII  BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST       ......     ....  342 

XLIII  THE  MORNING  AFTER  ..........  351 

XLIV  JEHOVAH    ..............  359 

XLV  THE  DEATH  OF  NITOCRIS    .........  367 

XLVI  RHESA        ..............  373 

XL  VII  THE  CAMP  AT  CARCHEMISH     .     .     .     ..     .     .     .  381 


RHESA 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   WINGED   LIONS 

That  part  of  modern  Arabia  now  known  as  the  Syrian 
desert  is  at  the  present  day  and  has  been  through  all  ages 
a  desolate,  dreary,  sandy  waste,  dreaded  alike  by  the  Arab 
and  his  faithful  camel.  The  traveler  who  for  the  first  time 
finds  himself  in  the  midst  of  this  desolation,  experiences  much 
the  same  sensation  as  the  landsman  who,  rising  early  upon 
his  first  day  out  from  port,  takes  a  promenade  on  deck.  As 
the  stranger  on  the  ocean  sees  naught  but  water  and  sky  with 
possibly  a  distant  sail  to  break  the  monotony  of  the  scene, 
so  the  traveler  in  the  desert  may  look  toward  all  the  points 
of  the  compass  and  see  naught  but  sand — sand  everywhere. 
Could  one  stand  upon  a  mountain  top  and  look  down  upon 
this  waste,  he  would  imagine  it  to  be  a  perfectly  flat  plain, 
but  upon  descending  he  would  find  that,  like  the  prairies 
of  our  own  land,  it  lay  in  ascending  ridges  resembling  the 
long  roll  of  the  ocean  upon  a  calm  day.  Occasional  sand 
hills  serve  to  break  the  monotony  of  the  otherwise  oppressive 
scene,  but  even  they  cannot  be  geographically  located,  since 
each  storm  sweeps  them  from  place  to  place.  Toward  the 
north  broken  ranges  of  rocky  hills  mark  the  gradual  evolu- 
tion of  the  desert  into  a  mountainous  country,  which  continues 
to  rise  until  reaching  its  greatest  height  in  the  Armenian 
mountains  and  the  Caucasian  range. 

Little  vegetation  is  found  except  in  the  occasional  oases 
where  a  solitary  group  of  palm  trees  rises  from  amidst  a  scanty 

i 


2  RHESA 

growth  of  underbrush  to  give  welcome  shade  and  rest  to  the 
weary  traveler.  Of  animal  inhabitants  it  has  few;  an  oc- 
casional lion,  a  pack  of  jackals,  or  rarely  a  wild  ass  are  the 
only  living  beings  to  be  met.  The  traveler  may  ride  for  miles 
without  meeting  a  sign  of  life,  either  animal  or  human,  while 
the  fierce  Arabian  sun  beats  down  upon  his  head  with  un- 
relenting fury. 

Toward  the  rising  sun  the  desert,  in  former  times,  lost  its 
arid  character  until,  east  of  the  Euphrates,  it  became  a  fertile 
plain,  the  seat  of  powerful  empires.  At  the  present  day  the 
sand  has  crossed  the  great  river  and  the  plain,  once  noted  for 
its  great  productiveness,  is  hardly  better  than  a  desert.  In 
ancient  times  a  strip  of  fertile  land,  varying  from  twenty  to 
thirty  miles  in  width,  intervened  between  the  Euphrates  and 
the  sandy  region. 

Had  a  traveler  stood  upon  this  desert  near  its  northern  bor- 
der late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  torrid  June  day,  B.  C.  539, 
taking  in  the  scene  about  him,  he  would  have  seen  naught  but 
sand  and  sky  in  all  directions  save  one.  Had  he  attentively 
examined  the  northwestern  horizon  he  would  have  observed 
a  brownish  cloud  and  beneath  the  cloud  a  small  black  spot. 
As  he  might  have  continued  gazing,  the  cloud  would  have 
increased  in  size  and  density  and  the  black  spot  enlarged  until 
it  changed  from  a  single  blot  upon  the  horizon  to  a  myriad 
of  moving  objects.  As  the  moments  sped  by  and  the  objects 
came  nearer  he  would  have  perceived  them  to  form  a  com- 
pany of  horsemen  and  the  cloud  to  be  a  cloud  of  dust  raised 
by  the  hoofs  of  the  steeds  composing  the  rapidly  moving  troop. 
Any  inhabitant  of  the  world  of  that  day  would  have  im- 
mediately recognized  it  as  a  body  of  Babylonian  cavalry,  a 
branch  of  that  terrible  army  which  made  Babylon  "the  ham- 
mer of  the  whole  earth." 

The  troop  was  composed  of  an  hundred  fighting  men  who 
rode  .horses,  besides  a  retinue  of  fully  forty  servants,  each 
of  whom  rode  upon  one  mule  and  led  another  upon  whose  back 
a  portion  of  the  necessary  supplies  and  equipments  were  packed. 


THE  WINGED     LIONS  3 

These  servants  were  of  various  nationalities,  but  the  swarthy 
negro-like  Susianians  were  the  most  numerous,  while  the 
Semitic  features  of  Hebrews  abounded.  The  mules  allotted 
to  this  portion  of  the  cavalcade  were  spirited  and  active  ani- 
mals, resembling  those  for  which  Khuzistan  is  famous  at  the 
present  day. 

The  horsemen  were  a  splendid  body,  the  equal,  if  not  the 
superior,  of  any  similar  body  the  world  of  that  day  con- 
tained. All  the  riders  were  young,  richly  uniformed,  and 
mounted  upon  the  finest  specimens  of  horse-flesh  to  be  found 
in  all  Chaldea. 

The  soldiers  were  short  and  broad-shouldered.  Their  heads 
were  large  and  well-formed,  the  foreheads  straight  but  not 
high,  and  the  lips  a  trifle  full.  Each  rider  was  the  possessor 
of  an  abundant  growth  of  hair,  both  upon  the  head  and  face. 
Their  thick  black  locks  flowed  without  restraint  over  their 
necks  and  shoulders,  affording  a  fine  protection  from  the  sun's 
fierce  rays.  Nearly  all  wore  beards  which  hung  in  crisp  curls 
upon  their  breasts.  Their  dark  complexions,  their  flattened 
noses,  and  their  general  physiognomy  bespoke  their  ancient 
Cushite  descent. 

Of  head-dress  they  had  little,  their  thick  black  locks  giving 
all  the  protection  needed  against  the  elements.  A  single  fillet 
of  linen  cloth  wound  about  their  heads  sufficed.  Their  general 
dress  was  elaborate.  A  long  linen  gown  hung  from  the  shoul- 
ders reaching  nearly  to  the  feet.  This  gown  or  tunic  was 
covered  by  a  short  sleeveless  coat,  richly  embroidered,  which 
barely  reached  to  the  knees.  It  hung  only  from  the  left  shoul- 
der, leaving  the  right  shoulder  and  both  arms  entirely  bare. 
The  arms  thus  exposed  were  round  and  sinewy  but  greatly 
browned  as  a  result  of  the  outdoor  life  constantly  led  by  the 
men.  A  low  boot,  in  some  cases  made  of  linen,  in  others 
of  goat  skin,  was  worn.  This  boot  was  embroidered  and 
laced  up  the  front.  The  fillet  of  linen  about  the  head  and 
a  broad  leather  belt  encircling  the  body  somewhat  higher 
up  than  the  waist,  completed  their  clothing. 


4  RHESA 

Their  armor  and  weapons  were  crude  but  well  adapted  to 
the  needs  of  their  time  and  their  methods  of  warfare.  In 
front  of  each  rider  and  attached  to  his  saddle  horn  was  a 
bronze  helmet  which  was  donned  upon  going  into  battle. 
Slung  from  the  left  shoulder  by  a  leather  strap  was  a  thin 
metal  shield,  while  from  his  neck  was  suspended  a  padded 
linen  breastplate.  Upon  his  back,  a  little  to  the  right  of  the 
center,  each  man  carried  a  quiver  containing  his  arrows.  A 
few  of  the  soldiers  carried  long  bronze-headed  spears,  the  butt 
resting  upon  the  foot  and  the  point  held  aloft,  after  the  fashion 
of  the  lances  of  knights  of  later  days.  The  spear-carriers  were 
few  in  number  and  were  scattered  throughout  the  command 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  suggest  their  being  minor  officers. 

Slipped  between  his  girdle  and  body,  each  man  carried  two 
short  daggers  encased  in  unornamented  sheaths.  A  curiously 
shaped  battle-axe  completed  the  cumbrous  armament  each  rider 
was  obliged  to  carry.  Despite  this  load  the  men  seemed  re- 
markably free  from  fatigue  as  they  sat  their  horses  well,  their 
heads  held  high  and  their  backs  straight.  The  absence  of 
prisoners,  the  apparent  freshness  of  both  horses  and  men,  and 
the  careless  manner  in  which  the  arms  were  carried,  in- 
dicated that  the  present  errand  was  one  of  peace. 

Thus  mounted  and  equipped,  and  followed  by  its  long  con- 
tingent of  servants  and  heavily  laden  mules,  the  cavalcade 
was  an  imposing  one.  An  observer  would  experience  no  sur- 
prise that  the  Hebrew  prophet  Habakkuk  termed  them  "ter- 
rible and  dreadful."  This  branch  of  the  army  now  introduced 
was  one  of  the  most  famous  bands  of  soldiery  of  the  ancient 
world.  Organized  by  the  young  prince  Nebuchadnezzar  as  his 
own  personal  body-guard  at  the  time  his  aged  father  sent  him 
against  the  Egyptian  king,  Necho,  it  had  continued  in  un- 
interrupted existence  throughout  the  reigns  of  successive  mon- 
archs.  It  was  now  en  route  to  the  Golden  City  to  play  an 
important  part  in  the  coronation  ceremonies  of  the  boy  Bel- 
shazzar,  the  last  king  of  that  great  empire. 

Although  organized  merely  as  the  king's  personal  body-guard, 


THE  WINGED     LIONS  5 

it  had  on  several  occasions  been  ordered  into  battle  with  such 
effect  that  it  had  been  made  a  part  of  the  regular  army,  and 
upon  it  devolved  the  hardest  fighting  of  many  bloody  cam- 
paigns. Because  of  its  fierce  riding  and  desperate  valor,  the 
guard  had  been  early  christened  the  Winged  Lions,  a  name 
that  remained  attached  to  it  throughout  all  the  years  of  its 
existence.  To  be  an  officer,  or  even  a  member  of  this  famous 
troop  was  the  highest  ambition  of  the  young  Babylonian  noble, 
and  to  be  its  commander  was  one  of  the  highest  honors  within 
the  gift  of  the  king. 

The  present  commander  of  the  troop  was  a  young  man 
of  striking  personality.  Mounted  upon  a  horse  of  a  much 
finer  breed  than  those  composing  the  body  of  the  troop,  and 
dressed  in  a  much  more  elaborate  manner,  he  showed  him- 
self plainly  to  be  the  ruling  spirit  of  the  Winged  Lions.  His 
body  clothing  consisted  first,  as  did  that  of  his  men,  of  an 
inner  garment,  but  his  outer  coat  differed  greatly.  It  reached 
to  a  little  below  the  knees  and  was  heavily  fringed  and  hand- 
somely embroidered.  Unlike  the  coats  of  his  men  it  had  sleeves 
that  reached  to  and  fully  covered  the  wrists.  This  coat  was 
dyed  a  rich  crimson  and  from  sheer  brilliancy  alone  would 
have  drawn  attention  to  its  wearer.  His  richly  embroidered 
boots  reached  to  his  knees,  meeting  the  outer  coat  and  thus 
leaving  no  portion  of  his  person  uncovered.  His  hair  was 
not  allowed  to  hang  unrestrained,  but  was  gathered  in  a 
single  stiff  curl  at  the  back  of  his  head.  His  cheeks  and  chin 
were  covered  by  a  well-kept  black  beard. 

The  girdle,  instead  of  being  a  plain  band  of  leather,  was 
covered  with  a  strip  of  linen  cloth  embroidered  in  gold.  A 
broad  cross-belt  passed  over  his  back  and  chest  in  a  diagonal 
manner,  serving  to  hold  in  place  the  quiver  containing  his 
arrows.  Upon  the  front  of  this  belt  was  much  embroidery, 
mostly  of  a  mythological  character.  Among  the  emblems  was 
the  mystic  number  assigned  to  the  god  Bel  or  Belus,  thus 
denoting  him  the  young  chieftain's  patron. 

In  his  head-dress  the  usual  linen  fillet  had  been  improved 


6  RHESA 

upon,  making  a  sort  of  stiff  turban,  covered  with  gorgeous 
devices  and  embroidered  in  gold.  A  golden  bracelet  upon  the 
left  wrist  and  a  necklace  of  gold  and  pearls  completed  the 
leader's  attire. 

His  armament  was  considerably  lighter  than  that  of  his 
men.  The  customary  linen  breastplate  hung  from  his  neck,  and 
as  previously  mentioned,  a  quiver  of  arrows  was  strapped  to 
his  back.  Of  armor  he  wore  none,  his  helmet  and  shield  be- 
ing carried  by  a  young  man  at  his  side,  evidently  his  body- 
servant.  His  battle-axe  was  attached  to  his  saddle. 

The  noble  horse  upon  which  the  young  man  sat  was  a  jet- 
black  stallion  of  beautiful  shape  and  graceful  carriage.  A 
single  white  star  in  the  center  of  his  forehead  was  the  only 
exception  to  his  prevailing  color.  The  slender  limbs,  the 
shapely  head,  and  the  delicate,  sensitive  ears,  signified  an  ani- 
mal of  the  finest  breed — a  king  of  his  race.  Indeed  he  was 
one  of  that  noble  race  for  which  Arabia  has  been  noted  through- 
out all  ages.  The  intelligent  beast  seemed  to  realize  the  im- 
portance of  the  burden  he  carried.  His  shapely  head  was 
held  high,  his  neck  proudly  arched,  and  at  each  step  his  delicate 
feet  were  raised  in  conscious  pride. 

The  manly  figure  and  bearing  of  the  commander  were  such 
as  to  win  for  him  the  plaudits  of  a  multitude.  He  was  taller 
and  of  a  slighter  mould  than  his  men;  his  features  were  finer; 
more  Semitic  and  less  of  the  Cushite.  He  resembled  more 
the  Hebrew  than  the  Chaldean,  his  thick  black  hair  and  dark 
complexion  alone  expressing  the  type  shown  in  his  men.  His 
face  was  the  index  of  a  noble  soul  and  character.  Such  was 
Nabomuran,  the  commander  of  the  Bablyonian  cavalry,  a  rank 
not  far  removed  from  that  of  King  Nabonidos  himself. 

A  word  must  be  said  for  Nabomuran's  companion  and  body- 
servant,  who  might  well  be  termed  a  Babylonized  Jew.  A 
son  of  Judah  he  certainly  was,  but  his  dress  and  ornaments 
were  essentially  those  of  the  Golden  City,  thus  showing  him 
to  have  forsaken  to  a  certain  degree  the  habits  and  customs 
of  his  forefathers,  and  to  have  adopted  those  of  his  captors. 


THE  WINGED     LIONS  7 

That  he  was  more  than  a  mere  servant  to  the  captain  was 
evidenced  by  the  unrestrained  conversation  taking  place  be- 
tween them  as  they  rode  along. 

"Truly,  O  Heber,  this  Jerusalem  of  thine  must  have  been 
a  wonderful  city,"  Nabomuran  was  saying. 

"It  was  indeed,"  replied  the  Jew.  "The  city  of  Jehovah, 
the  dwelling-place  of  the  true  God;  it  held  a  place  in  the 
hearts  of  my  people  that  never  can  be  filled.  Its  temple  was 
a  wonder  of  wonders,  built  of  hewn  stone  and  ornamented 
with  timbers  brought  from  Mount  Lebanon.  The  vessels 
used  in  the  temple  service  were  of  pure  gold  and  pure  silver." 

"I  have  seen  them  in  the  temple  of  Bel.  They  are  indeed 
beautiful  vessels,  the  like  of  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  all 
Babylon,"  said  the  soldier. 

"I  remember  hearing  an  old  man,  a  Levite,  telling  of  the 
splendors  of  the  temple;  the  golden  candlestick;  the  table  of 
shew  bread;  the  great  altar;  and  the  Holy  of  Holies,  the 
dwelling-place  of  the  Most  High,  which  none  but  the  high 
priest  could  enter  and  he  but  once  a  year,"  continued  the  Jew. 

"What  a  pity  the  rebellion  of  thy  people  caused  our  great 
king  to  destroy  so  beautiful  a  city,"  remarked  the  Babylonian. 

"It  was  the  will  of  God,"  answered  the  Jew  reverently. 

"I  have  heard  much  concerning  thy  God,  Heber,"  con- 
tinued the  soldier,  after  turning  a  moment  to  see  if  all  was 
well  with  his  command,  "how  great  and  powerful  He  is.  It 
has  always  seemed  strange  to  me  that  He  allowed  Jerusalem  to 
be  captured.  Merodach  or  Bel  would  never  permit  our  city 
to  be  so  taken."  The  Jew  smiled  at  his  superior's  assurance, 
visions  of  Tiglath  Pileser,  Shalmaneser,  Sargon,  Sennacherib 
and  Asshur-bani-pal,  great  warriors  before  whom  the  proud 
city  had  fallen  probably  coming  before  his  eyes.  He  wisely 
refrained  from  arguing  with  his  master,  but  answered  quickly. 

"It  was  God's  will  that  our  fathers  should  be  thus  con- 
quered as  a  punishment  for  their  sins.  We  are  now  thoroughly 
repentant  and  shall  never  more  forsake  the  worship  of  the 
true  God;  the  God  that  brought  our  forefathers  up  out  of 


8  RHESA 

Egypt  and  has  watched  over  us  all  these  years.  All  Jews  are 
praying  for  a  speedy  deliverance  from  captivity  and  are  ex- 
pecting that  deliverance  to  come  ere  long,  as  the  seventy  years 
are  well  nigh  completed." 

"What  seventy  years  meanest  thou?"  asked  the  Babylonian. 

"The  seventy  years  of  captivity  foretold  by  our  great 
prophet,"  *  answered  Heber.  "Our  leaders  teach  us  the 
prophecy  means  seventy  years  from  the  time  the  first  Jew  was 
brought  to  Babylon.  If  their  interpretation  is  correct  the  time 
is  nearly  completed,  as  it  is  now  seven  and  sixty  years  since 
Nebuchadnezzar,  thy  great  king,  first  brought  Judah  under 
his  dominion  and  carried  away  the  first  captives.  Only  three 
years  more  and  we  shall  all  return  to  our  native  land." 

The  Babylonian  smiled  sarcastically  as  he  made  answer: 
"Thy  hopes  are  unfounded  I  fear,  my  Heber.  Never  will 
the  Jews  be  liberated  as  long  as  the  present  line  of  kings  hold 
the  Babylonish  throne.  King  Nabonidos  knows  full  well 
that  times  of  danger  are  approaching.  He  fears  the  rising 
power  of  the  Persian.  It  is  now  fifteen  years  since  the  Persian 
Cyrus  defeated  our  allies,  the  Lydians,  and  our  king  fears 
Babylon  will  next  receive  his  attention.  Once  we  have  beaten 
him  off,  but  he  is  sure  to  try  it  again.  Were  the  true  king, 
the  descendant  of  the  great  Nebuchadnezzar  and  the  good  Evil- 
Merodach  upon  the  throne,  we  need  not  fear  the  power  of 
the  Persian.  This  powerful  foe  defeated,  the  liberation  of  the 
Jews  might  follow." 

"Exists  there  such  a  man?"  asked  Heber. 

"A  priest  once  told  me " 

Before  Nabomuran  could  finish  the  sentence  the  conversa- 
tion was  interrupted  by  Belibus,  the  lieutenant  of  the  troop, 
who,  leaving  his  place  at  the  center  of  the  cavalcade,  had 
galloped  forward  and  placed  himself  at  his  superior's  side. 

"See!"  he  exclaimed,  "the  simoon!" 

The  commander  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  pointed  out 
by  his  assistant  and  saw  that  the  sun,  now  on  the  edge  of  the 

*  Jeremiah  25:11. 


THE  WINGED     LIONS  9 

horizon,  was  obscured  by  a  dark  cloud.  The  atmosphere  was 
thick  and  murky,  the  wind  was  rising,  the  sand  was  even 
now  beginning  to  whirl  about  in  clouds  and  every  indication 
of  the  dreaded  simoon  was  manifest.  To  reach  a  place  of 
shelter  was  impossible,  so  the  soldiers  must  protect  them- 
selves as  best  they  could.  Nabomuran  ordered  them  to  dis- 
mount, a  command  instantly  obeyed  by  all,  soldiers  and  servants 
alike.  The  horses  were  unsaddled  and  compelled  to  lie  down 
upon  the  sand  in  circles.  The  soldiers  threw  their  saddle- 
cloths over  the  horses'  heads  to  protect  their  eyes  and  nostrils 
from  the  flying,  burning  sand.  Taking  off  their  outer  coats, 
they  protected  their  own  faces  in  like  manner.  Then  lying 
prone  upon  the  sand,  close  beside  their  faithful  animals  they 
awaited  the  coming  of  the  storm.  Nabomuran  and  his  Jewish 
companion  lay  side  by  side  in  the  outer  circle  of  the  company. 

Several  moments  naturally  had  been  required  to  make  these 
preparations  so  that  they  had  hardly  taken  their  places  beside 
their  horses  before  the  storm  was  upon  them.  The  wind  blew 
with  terrible  violence,  carrying  with  it  whirling  clouds  of 
heated  sand  caught  up  from  the  parched  surface  of  the  desert. 
The  atmosphere  had  a  lurid  glow,  the  air  was  hot  and  stifling 
and  the  fine  sand  entered  alike  the  nostrils  of  man  and  beast. 
The  horses  became  restless.  Several  of  them  arose  and  before 
their  riders  could  restrain  them,  were  off  across  the  desert 
at  a  gallop.  One  soldier  was  injured  by  being  trodden  under 
foot. 

The  storm  steadily  increased  in  severity  until,  some  twenty 
minutes  from  the  time  the  men  had  completed  their  arrange- 
ments for  shelter,  it  had  apparently  reached  its  maximum 
strength  and  velocity.  At  this  moment  the  young  commander 
threw  off  the  coat  which  protected  his  head,  raised  himself 
on  his  elbow,  and  placing  his  hand  to  his  ear,  listened  atten- 
tively. From  far  off  across  the  desert  a  faint  cry  reached  his 
ear. 

"H-e-l-p,"  it  sounded. 

He  continued  to  listen  and  again  came  the  cry.     At  the 


io  RHESA 

third  repetition  of  the  cry  he  bounded  to  his  feet,  and  re- 
gardless of  the  storm,  forced  his  horse  to  rise.  Calling  upon 
the  two  soldiers  nearest  him  to  bear  him  company,  he,  with- 
out waiting  to  saddle,  sprang  upon  his  horse's  back  and  rode 
off  across  the  desert  in  the  direction  from  which  the  cry  had 
come.  The  soldiers  called  upon  obeyed  instantly,  forced  their 
unwilling  steeds  into  a  gallop  and  followed  their  commander 
at  no  great  distance.  With  heads  bowed  upon  their  horses' 
necks  the  trio  pushed  forward,  urging  the  faithful  animals 
to  their  utmost.  The  breathing  of  the  horses  was  short  and 
difficult;  their  eyes  and  nostrils  were  inflamed,  but  still  they 
pressed  forward.  The  cry  for  help  was  repeated  every  few 
moments,  serving  to  guide  them  to  the  spot  whence  it  came. 
Suddenly  Nabomuran,  riding  some  fifty  feet  in  front  of  his 
men,  reined  in  his  steed  just  in  time  to  prevent  trampling 
upon  two  prostrate  figures  that  lay  upon  the  sand  directly  in 
front  of  him  and  almost  under  his  horse's  hoofs.  The  young 
commander  dismounted  and  knelt  beside  them. 

"Jehovah  be  praised,"  the  elder  of  the  two  persons  ex- 
claimed at  sight  of  the  soldier.  "Help  has  reached  us  at 
last." 

His  companion  upon  hearing  this  half  arose  and  removed 
the  cloak  from  about  her  head,  revealing  to  Nabomuran  the 
features  of  a  beautiful  Jewess.  She  looked  into  his  face  with 
confidence,  and  noticing  his  soldier's  dress,  said:  "I  told  thee, 
father,  there  must  be  soldiers  near  at  hand.  I  was  sure  it 
was  a  soldier's  horse  that  so  nearly  trampled  upon  us.  I  also 
remembered  hearing  of  the  arrival  of  a  body  of  troops  at 
Damascus  the  day  we  left  there." 

"Ay,  Orma,  thou  art  right  as  usual,"  said  the  old  man 
tenderly;  then,  turning  to  the  soldier,  he  said:  "Canst  thou, 
noble  sir,  give  escort  unto  two  helpless  Jews?  We  have  been 
robbed  by  our  Arab  attendants  and  left  upon  the  desert,  with- 
out even  a  horse." 

"As  soon  as  the  storm  abates  we  will  seek  my  command 


THE  WINGED     LIONS  u 

and  thou  shalt  finish  thy  journey  in  our  company,"  replied  the 
soldier. 

This  conversation  was  of  necessity  a  very  hurried  one,  con- 
suming far  less  time  than  its  narration  indicates,  the  severity 
of  the  storm  making  speech  difficult.  After  replying  to  the 
old  Jew's  request  Nabomuran  threw  himself  upon  the  sand 
beside  him,  retaining  a  firm  hold  upon  his  horse's  bridle,  the 
animal  having  already  shown  symptoms  of  uneasiness.  The 
soldiers  took  their  places  some  ten  or  more  feet  away  from 
the  group. 

For  at  least  half  an  hour  the  little  party  lay  muffled  in 
their  clothing,  silent  and  motionless.  By  that  time  the  storm 
had  so  far  abated  that  Nabomuran  deemed  it  safe  to  set  out 
in  search  of  his  command.  He  therefore  arose  and  called  upon 
his  men  to  do  likewise.  With  his  outercoat,  which  had  been 
wrapped  about  his  head  during  the  storm,  he  improvised  a  sad- 
dle which  he  fastened  upon  his  horse's  back  with  the  bridle 
reins,  trusting  the  faithful  beast  to  follow  without  guidance. 
He  lifted  the  Jewess  to  her  place  upon  the  back  of  his  own 
steed  and  assisted  her  father  to  mount  a  second  horse.  Such 
baggage  as  the  thieving  Arabs  had  left  behind  was  packed  upon 
the  back  of  the  remaining  animal.  The  party  was  then  ready 
to  start. 

Nabomuran  placed  his  hand  upon  his  horse's  nose  and  spoke 
a  few  words  to  him  in  Babylonian.  The  intelligent  beast 
seemed  to  catch  his  master's  meaning  and  they  started  off  at 
a  slow  walk,  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  party.  The  two 
soldiers  walked,  each  at  the  head  of  his  own  horse. 

The  conversation  engaged  in  by  the  young  commander  and 
the  old  Jew  had  been  in  that  mixed  language,  part  Hebrew, 
part  Bablyonian  which  the  inhabitants  of  the  Golden  City 
used  when  speaking  with  their  captives.  Nabomuran  was 
therefore  greatly  surprised  when  he  heard  himself  addressed 
in  pure  Babylonian  by  his  fair  companion. 

"Is  there  any  danger  of  missing  thy  way?"  she  asked. 

"I  think  not,  lady,"  he  replied.     "Although  the  sun  has 


12  RHESA 

now  set  I  am  confident  of  finding  my  command,  especially 
as  they  will  miss  me  and  remain  where  I  left  them  until  my 
return." 

"But  suppose  we  do  miss  them?"  she  continued  anxiously. 

"We  shall  be  obliged  to  camp  on  the  desert  until  day1 
he  replied. 

Her  fears  were  somewhat  allayed  by  the  confident  mam< 
the  soldier.     She  remained  silent  for  some  moments  bu. 
ently  she  spoke  again. 

"Listen  sir,"  she  exclaimed. 

Nabomuran  stopped.  A  trumpet  blast  could  be  distinctly 
heard  in  a  direction  nearly  opposite  to  that  they  were  pursu- 
ing. 

"We  are  going  in  the  wrong  direction,"  he  murmured. 
Then,  placing  his  hands  to  his  mouth  so  as  to  form  a  trumpet, 
he  hallooed  thrice. 

Three  long  blasts  from  the  trumpet  answered  him.  The 
distant  tramp  of  horses  could  be  heard  upon  the  still  night 
air.  The  party  remained  where  they  had  halted  while  the 
horsemen  came  nearer  and  nearer.  In  a  few  moments  the 
party  arrived  and  gave  vent  to  shouts  of  joy  at  finding  their 
beloved  commander  safe.  The  party  consisted  of  about  twenty 
men  from  the  Winged  Lions,  headed  by  Nergalshazzar  the 
trumpeter,  and  accompanied  by  the  young  Jew,  Heber.  The 
latter  looked  curiously  at  the  old  Hebrew  but  received  no 
sign  of  recognition.  The  young  lady,  however,  favored  him 
with  a  smile,  showing  by  that  slight  greeting  that  they  were 
not  unknown  to  one  another. 

Under  the  guidance  of  the  newcomers,  rescued  and  rescuers 
set  off  together  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  they  came  upon 
the  main  body,  which  had  remained  where  we  last  saw  it 
while  a  picked  troop  had  gone  in  search  of  its  commander. 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT  13 

CHAPTER  II 

(  A   NIGHT   ON    THE   DESERT 

y\v  that  the  party  was  reunited,  Nabomuran  turned  his 
" .  "jon  to  the  matter  of  securing  some  sort  of  shelter  for 
tm  aght.  As  far  as  the  soldiers  were  concerned  they  could 
camp  upon  the  desert  as  they  had  done  many  times  before, 
but  a  lady  was  now  of  the  party  and  for  her  sake  the  com- 
mander wished  to  find  a  suitable  place  to  spend  the  night. 
He  sent  for  Kudur,  the  chief  of  the  servants.  The  Susianian 
came  as  ordered.  When  asked  concerning  a  place  of  shelter 
he  stood  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  told  the  commander 
of  a  brick  enclosure  situated  some  three  miles  east  of  their 
present  station,  to  which  he  promised  to  guide  them. 

Preparations  for  the  start  were  at  once  begun.  The  horses 
were  resaddled,  the  pack  mules  reloaded  and  the  cavalcade 
was  soon  ready  to  set  out  after  a  delay,  occasioned  by  the 
storm,  of  more  than  two  hours.  Three  litters  were  con- 
structed; one  for  the  old  Jew,  another  for  his  daughter,  and 
the  third  for  the  soldier  injured  in  the  stampede  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  storm.  Several  men  whose  horses  had 
galloped  away  at  that  time  were  obliged  to  borrow  mules 
from  the  servants. 

Led  by  the  Susianian,  Kudur,  the  company  took  up  its  march. 
The  safety  and  convenience  of  those  in  the  litters  made  haste 
impossible.  In  columns  of  fours,  a  space  between  each  four, 
the  cavalcade  was  upwards  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length. 
The  litters  were  carried  by  four  servants  each  and  were  placed 
in  the  center  of  the  troop.  A  guard  of  eight  horsemen  sur- 
rounded them  to  prevent  an  attack  from  the  wild  animals  of 
the  desert  which,  since  sundown  had  made  their  appearance. 
A  pack  of  jackals  numbering  a  dozen  or  more  kept  them  com- 
pany until  they  reached  their  destination. 

It  was  fully  nine  o'clock  when  Kudur  turned  to  Nabomuran 


14  RHESA 

(who  was  riding  directly  behind  him)  and,  pointing  to  a  low 
mass  of  masonry  whose  dim  outline  could  be  distinguished  by 
the  light  of  the  newly  risen  moon,  said:  "Here  master,  is  the 
place  I  told  thee  of." 

Nabomuran  rode  forward  to  the  gate  and  was  about  to  enter 
when  he  suddenly  discovered  a  previous  tenant  to  be  in  posses- 
sion. Just  inside  the  entrance  he  distinguished  the  form  of  a 
gigantic  male  lion.  The  huge  beast  was  standing  upon  all 
fours,  lashing  his  tawny  side  with  his  powerful  tail.  His  eyes 
flashed  fire.  Every  muscle  beneath  his  skin  was  swollen  and 
his  whole  frame  quivered  with  excitement  and  anger  at  being 
thus  disturbed.  He  made  an  impressive  but  yet  a  terrible 
picture.  He  showed  himself  indeed  the  king  of  beasts. 

The  young  commander  reached  over  his  shoulder  for  his 
bow  and  arrows.  They  were  gone.  In  the  excitement  at- 
tendant upon  the  storm  and  the  events  following  it  they  had 
been  removed.  His  command  was  still  some  little  distance  to 
the  rear,  and  before  they  could  reach  him  the  lion  would  spring. 
Kudur  was  but  a  few  feet  distant,  but  being  a  servant  he 
was  unarmed.  The  angry  beast  crouched  for  his  terrible 
spring.  A  thought  flashed  into  Nabomuran's  mind.  He  grasped 
his  battle-axe  and  tore  it  from  his  saddle,  bursting  the  leather 
thongs  that  fastened  it  as  though  they  had  been  silken  threads. 
Rising  in  his  saddle,  he  hurled  the  weapon  at  the  beast  with 
all  the  force  of  his  strong  right  arm  and  with  an  accuracy 
born  of  constant  practice.  The  axe  struck  the  animal  squarely 
upon  the  jaw,  inflicting  a  painful  but  not  fatal  wound. 
Angered  by  this  attack,  the  beast  gave  a  great  roar  of  pain  and 
sprang  at  Nabomuran,  who  had  no  opportunity  of  escape.  He 
watched  with  a  calm  despair  the  spring  of  the  beast.  He 
seemed  charmed  by  the  light  of  those  terrible  eyes  and  felt 
no  fear.  An  instant  only  was  the  beast  in  the  air.  He  had 
miscalculated.  Instead  of  landing  upon  the  horse's  back,  he 
fell  upon  the  ground  scarcely  three  feet  distant.  Ere  he 
could  rise  and  crouch  for  another  spring  a  javelin  whistled 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT  15 

through  the  air.  It  was  thrown  unerringly  and  pierced  the 
beast  to  the  heart. 

Seeing  his  enemy  thus  vanquished,  Nabomuran  threw  off  his 
strange  stupor  and  dismounted  to  look  for  his  friend  in  need. 
A  short,  stocky  man,  clad  in  leather  breeches,  over  which  a  long 
flowing  robe  of  a  bright  scarlet  hue  was  worn,  stood  close  beside 
the  Babylonian.  Upon  his  head  was  a  bright  bronze  helmet;  his 
chest  was  protected  by  a  thin  breastplate  of  the  same  material 
and  his  legs  were  encased  in  leather  boots.  A  golden  chain  was 
hung  about  his  neck  and  golden  bracelets  encircled  his  wrists. 

"Noble  sir,  to  whom  am  I  indebted  for  this  act?  Thou  hast 
saved  my  life,"  said  Nabomuran  as  he  approached  the  stranger. 

"My  name  is  of  little  consequence,"  said  the  Mede,  for  such 
his  dress  and  appearance  betokened  him.  "I,  accompanied  by 
a  few  followers,  was  riding  in  this  vicinity.  During  the  recent 
storm  I  became  separated  from  my  companions  and  am  now 
endeavouring  to  find  them." 

"The  night  is  now  upon  us  and  to  find  them  ere  morning 
will  be  an  impossibility,"  said  the  Babylonian.  "Thou  hadst 
best  spend  the  night  here  with  us  and  seek  thy  companions  on 
the  morrow." 

"But  sir,  the  Medes  and  Babylonians  are  now  on  terms  of 
enmity  and  these,  thy  followers,  look  dangerous,"  answered  the 
Mede,  glancing  at  the  troop  which  by  this  time  had  reached  the 
gateway. 

"The  man  who  saved  my  life  need  have  no  fear  of  accepting 
my  hospitality,"  replied  Nabomuran  with  an  air  of  quiet  dig- 
nity. 

"Forgive  me  that  I  doubted  thee,"  said  the  stranger.  "I 
gladly  accept  thy  kind  invitation." 

Some  servants  now  came  forward  and  after  considerable  ef- 
fort removed  the  carcass  of  the  lion.  The  company  then  filed 
within  the  enclosure. 

The  retreat  in  which  they  found  themselves  was  an  ancient 
prototype  of  those  khans  now  so  universal  throughout  the  east. 
It  was  a  nearly  square  enclosure,  measuring  some  three  hundred 


i6  RHESA 

feet  on  each  side,  its  four  faces  placed  toward  the  cardinal 
points  of  the  compass.  Under  the  northern  wall  was  a  row 
of  brick  apartments  intended  as  the  sleeping  places  of  the 
leaders  of  whatever  company  sought  shelter  within  its  walls. 
Directly  opposite  these  apartments,  and  running  parallel  with 
the  southern  wall,  was  a  low  railing  of  palm  wood  intended  as 
a  hitching  place  for  the  dumb  members  of  the  party.  The 
large  open  space  in  the  center  of  the  enclosure  was  intended 
as  the  camping-place  of  the  ordinary  merchants  and  the  servants 
of  the  caravans  for  whose  accommodation  the  building  had  been 
erected. 

Once  inside'  the  enclosure  every  man  dismounted  and  prep- 
arations for  the  night  were  instantly  made.  Belibus,  the  lieu- 
tenant of  the  troop,  took  the  superintendence  of  the  camping 
arrangements,  leaving  Nabomuran  free  to  look  after  his  guests. 
Assisted  by  some  Hebrew  servants  he  made  the  sleeping  apart- 
ments as  comfortable  as  the  means  at  hand  allowed.  With  tents 
and  other  articles  of  camp  equipage,  couches  were  constructed 
for  the  lady  and  the  wounded  men. 

By  the  time  these  preparations  were  completed  a  party  of 
Susianian  servants  appeared  with  the  materials  for  the  evening 
meal,  which  was  to  be  served  to  the  more  distinguished  members 
of  the  party  in  the  apartment  chosen  by  Nabomuran.  The 
servants  spread  a  large  linen  cloth  upon  the  hard  brick  floor  of 
the  apartment  and  placed  thereon  the  various  articles  of  food. 
The  food  consisted  of  wheaten  cakes,  dates  and  honey.  For 
drink  they  had  palm  wine  with  a  small  earthen  bottle  of 
grape  wine  brought  from  the  south  of  Armenia.  The  party 
which  gathered  about  this  rough  table  consisted  of  seven  persons, 
including  the  three  soldiers,  three  guests  and  Heber.  Belibus 
did  not  arrive  until  the  others  had  nearly  finished  their  repast, 
so  engrossed  had  he  been  with  his  duties  outside. 

The  meal  over,  Nabomuran  and  his  lieutenant  left  the  apart- 
ment and  made  a  complete  tour  of  the  enclosure,  carefully 
inspecting  the  arrangements  made  for  the  accommodation  of  the 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT  17 

men  and  horses.  Having  seen  that  everything  possible  had 
been  done,  they  returned  to  the  commander's  apartment. 

The  group  about  the  cloth  was  unchanged,  save  that  the  lady 
member  of  the  party  had  sought  the  retirement  of  her  chamber. 
The  old  Jew  and  the  Mede  were  engaged  in  a  religious  discus- 
sion, particularly  touching  upon  the  subject  of  a  future  life 
after  death,  a  subject  then  exciting  much  contention  among  the 
world's  thinkers.  The  entrance  of  the  two  officers  put  an  end 
to  this  discussion.  The  commander  bowed  to  his  guests  with 
true  Oriental  deference  as  he  entered. 

"Come,  my  friends,"  he  said,  "as  we  are  to  spend  the  night 
together,  it  is  fitting  that  we  should  know  each  other.  To  this 
end  I  will  introduce  myself.  I  am  Nabomuran,  son  of 
Neboakhu,  chief  priest  of  the  temple  of  Belus.  As  his  son  I 
am  a  noble  of  Babylon.  In  times  of  peace  I  command  the 
king's  body-guard ;  in  times  of  war  I  am  a  general.  I  am  re- 
turning from  a  special  mission  to  Judea,  under  orders  to  reach 
Babylon  in  time  to  assist  in  the  coronation  ceremonies  of  young 
Belshazzar,  my  former  pupil  in  archery  and  kindred  sports, 
whom  the  king  is  to  make  his  associate  on  the  throne." 

Having  thus  spoken  the  young  commander  took  his  place 
beside  the  cloth.  The  Mede  now  arose  and,  bowing  to  each 
member  of  the  group  in  turn,  thus  spoke: 

"Friends,  for  such  we  are  here  tonight,  know  me  as  Rastagus 
of  Ecbatana,  a  soldier  of  Astyages,  king  of  Media  and  now  an 
officer  in  the  army  of  Cyrus,  king  of  Persia,  the  grandson  of 
my  former  master.  Although  we  are  now  known  as  thine 
enemies,  yet  I  am  thy  guest  and  as  such,  thy  friend.  Should 
Cyrus  and  Nabonidos  meet  in  war,  which  I  fear  they  will,  for 
our  king  resents  the  league  thy  monarch  made  with  Croesus, 
king  of  Lydia,  may  the  gods  forbid  my  ever  meeting  one  of  this 
company  in  battle.  Should  we  meet  I  promise  not  to  forget 
this  night's  kind  entertainment." 

"Nor  shall  I,  good  Rastagus  forget  that  king  of  spearmen 
who  this  day  saved  my  life,"  said  Nabomuran,  rising  to  ac- 
knowledge the  courtesy  of  his  guest.  "I,  too,  fear  a  war  be- 


1 8  RHESA 

tween  Cyrus  and  Nabonidos  and  should  that  war  come  I  shall 
do  my  duty  as  a  soldier  of  Babylon,  but  never  shall  my  hand 
be  raised  against  Rastagus  the  Mede." 

After  exchanging  these  civilities  the  two  future  enemies  re- 
sumed their  seats  upon  the  floor  beside  the  cloth. 

"It  is  now  my  turn,"  said  the  old  Jew,  rising.  "Nehum,  the 
son  of  Eladim,  a  prince  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  am  I.  My 
father  perished  at  the  last  siege  of  Jerusalem,  when  Nebuza- 
radan  destroyed  the  city.  I,  a  child  of  twelve  years,  was  taken 
captive  and  carried  to  Babylon.  For  nine  and  forty  years  have 
I  been  a  resident  of  that  great  city;  but  I  am  still  a  Jew,  am 
still  a  follower  of  Jehovah.  My  daughter  and  I  are  returning 
from  Jerusalem  whither  we  carried  the  body  of  my  deceased 
wife,  the  bride  of  my  youth,  my  companion  in  captivity,  the 
mother  of  my  boy  and  girl.  We  traveled  under  escort  of  a 
body  of  Arabs  hired  by  gold.  On  our  return  (for  the  special 
permission  given  me  by  the  king  required  my  immediate  return) 
we  were  robbed  of  our  horses  and  nearly  all  of  our  goods  by 
the  servants  we  had  hired,  and  were  left  to  perish  on  the  desert. 
Had  not  the  great  God  sent  this  noble  soldier  to  our  rescue  we 
would  have  perished  in  the  storm." 

"And  I,"  said  Nabomuran's  servant,  Heber,  rising  as  the 
old  Jew  was  seated,  "am  Heber,  the  son  of  Nehum  and  that 
good  woman  I  now  learn  for  the  first  time  is  no  more." 

"Oh,  my  father,"  he  cried,  throwing  himself  at  the  old  man's 
feet,  "for  the  sake  of  that  dear  mother,  I  beg  of  thee  to  forgive 
thine  erring  boy.  Remember  not  my  perverseness,  but  grant 
me  thy  love  and  forgiveness." 

"My  son,"  replied  Nehum,  clasping  Heber  to  his  breast,  "the 
forgiveness  is  granted.  Praise  the  Lord  I  can  again  take  thee 
back  to  my  heart." 

"This  reconciliation  is  pleasant  to  behold,"  said  the  Baby- 
lonian, "but  such  reunions  are  too  sacred  for  the  eyes  of 
strangers.  I  am  sure  we  shall  be  pleased  to  excuse  thee,"  turn- 
ing to  the  old  Jew.  "There  is  probably  much  thou  wouldst 
like  to  say  to  thy  son  in  private." 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT  19 

With  many  thanks  for  the  consideration  of  the  young  com- 
mander the  two  Hebrews  bade  farewell  to  the  assembled  com- 
pany and  withdrew  to  the  apartment  of  Nehum.  The  company 
now  numbered  but  four  persons,  the  three  soldiers  and  the 
Mede.  The  latter  at  once  turned  the  conversation  to  the  sub- 
ject of  Babylonian  history. 

"I  have  heard,"  he  said,  "that  thy  king,  Nabonidos,  is  not  of 
royal  birth." 

This  remark  led  Nabomuran  into  a  brief  summary  of  events 
in  Babylon  since  the  destruction  of  Nineveh  eighty-six  years 
before,  closing  thus:  "The  true  royal  line  came  to  an  end  just 
twenty  years  back,  when  the  rab  mag  Neriglissar  assassinated 
the  king  Evil-Merodach." 

"I  see,"  replied  the  Mede,  "but  O  noble  Babylonian,  I  can 
tell  thee  of  something  concerning  the  house  of  Nabopolassar 
that  thou  knowest  not.  It  is  this.  Some  seventeen  years  ago 
I  wras  a  member  of  a  hunting  party  that  went  from  the  palace 
of  Astyages  into  the  forest  some  miles  from  Ecbatana.  We 
hunted  with  great  success  for  several  days,  pushing  farther  and 
farther  into  the  forest  each  day.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
eighth  day  I  came  upon  the  track  of  a  boar  and,  without  calling 
my  comrades,  I  set  off  in  pursuit  of  the  animal.  So  intent  was 
I  upon  my  hunt  that  I  did  not  notice  the  sun's  rapid  journey 
toward  the  horizon.  At  length  I  came  upon  the  boar  and  easily 
killed  him.  It  was  then  dark,  but  I  determined  if  possible  to 
find  my  companions,  so  I  set  out  upon  my  return,  thinking  to 
come  back  after  the  carcass  of  the  boar  on  the  morrow.  For 
more  than  three  hours  I  stumbled  along  through  the  forest 
without  finding  any  trace  of  my  party.  It  being  plain  to  me 
that  I  was  lost  in  the  woods,  I  abandoned  all  hope  of  rejoin- 
ing my  companions  before  morning  and  began  to  seek  a  place 
of  shelter  for  the  night.  Another  half  hour  I  trudged  along. 
At  length  I  saw  just  before  me  a  dim  light.  With  a  cry  of 
joy  I  bounded  forward  toward  the  spot -whence  the  light  pro- 
ceeded. I  saw  that  it  came  from  out  a  deep  cave  reached  by 
a  long  low  passage.  Knowing  that  such  a  light  was  made  only 


20  RHESA 

by  man,  I  boldly  entered  the  passage  and  groped  my  way  along 
towards  the  cavern.  The  tunnel  narrowed  as  it  neared  the 
cave  until  I  was  obliged  to  crawl  upon  my  hands  and  knees  in 
order  to  make  my  way  along.  As  I  neared  the  interior  the 
light  became  stronger  and  brighter,  serving  to  guide  me  through 
the  rough  passage.  Finally  I  came  to  the  spot  where  the  tunnel 
entered  the  cave.  I  crawled  through  the  narrow  opening  and 
found  myself  in  the  interior  of  a  spacious  chamber,  hewn  from 
the  solid  rock  by  the  hand  of  nature.  Hanging  from  an  iron 
hook  cemented  into  the  ceiling  was  an  earthen  lamp  whose 
light  had  guided  me  hither.  Beneath  the  lamp  was  a  wooden 
table  covered  with  clay  tablets  and  rolls  of  parchment.  Seated 
at  the  table,  with  his  back  toward  me,  was  an  old  man  clad 
in  a  long  white  robe.  His  snow-white  beard  reached  nearly 
to  his  waist,  and  his  hoary  locks  flowed  over  his  neck  and  shoul- 
ders like  a  silvery  waterfall.  So  intent  was  he  upon  the  perusal 
of  the  documents  in  front  of  him  that  he  had  not  noticed  my 
entrance.  For  several  moments  I  stood  regarding  him  in 
silence,  but  at  length  I  addressed  him. 

"  'Kind  sir,'  I  said,  'I  am  a  hunter  lost  in  the  forest.  The 
light  which  streamed  from  out  the  entrance  to  thine  abode 
guided  me  here  and  seemed  to  bid  me  enter,  so  here '  I  am. 
Canst  thou  give  me  shelter  for  the  night  ?'  " 

The  old  man  arose  and,  after  regarding  me  searchingly  for 
some  moments,  said : 

;<  'Son,  thou  art  welcome  to  my  abode.  Enter  and  do  as 
thine  inclinations  bid  thee.'  " 

"He  pointed  to  an  oaken  stool  which  I  secured  and  seated 
myself  opposite  him.  He  seemed  willing  to  talk,  so  we  sat 
there  for  several  hours  discussing  events  in  the  outside  world. 
At  length  I  asked  him  what  had  caused  him  to  separate  himself 
from  his  fellow-men.  This  is  the  story  he  told  me. 

"  'My  son,  I  am  Kuri-Sipak  the  Chaldean.  My  birthplace 
was  Calneh  in  the  land  of  Babylonia.  When  I  was  one  and 
twenty  years  of  age  I  left  my  boyhood's  home  and  journeyed 
to  Babylon,  where  I  entered  the  service  of  the  gods.  I  studied 


21 

day  and  night,  poring  over  every  record  I  could  obtain  and 
searching  for  knowledge  wherever  it  could  be  found.  I  studied 
the  ancient  tablets;  how  Ea  saved  Xisuthros  from  the  flood  by 
causing  him  to  build  a  great  ship  that  would  carry  him  safely 
over  the  waters;  and  how  Gilgames,  the  hero,  journeyed  to 
the  other  world  and  heard  from  the  lips  of  Xisuthros  the  story 
of  his  escape  from  the  waters.  I  studied  the  moon  and  the 
stars  that  nightly  show  themselves  above  us,  revealing  to  the 
student  by  their  ever-changing  positions  the  secrets  and  plans 
of  the  gods.  My  learning  made  me  famous  and  brought  me 
into  favor  with  the  king,  the  great  Nabopolassar.  Next  to  the 
king  I  was  the  greatest  man  in  all  Babylon.  To  me  he  in- 
trusted the  teaching  of  his  children,  particularly  the  young 
prince  Nebuchadnezzar.  I  was  with  the  prince  daily  and 
sought  to  instil  within  him  noble  thoughts  and  ideas.  I  taught 
him  of  the  gods  and  their  servants,  the  heavenly  bodies. 

"  'At  length  the  prince  reached  manhood.  His  days  of  study 
were  over  and  he  must  needs  enter  upon  a  career  of  war. 
Trouble  arose  with  the  king  of  Egypt  and  the  old  king  sent 
his  son  to  battle  with  the  invader.  The  Egyptian  was  defeated 
and  the  young  prince  pressed  onward  to  Jerusalem,  the  holy 
city  of  the  Hebrews.  While  he  was  thus  engaged  the  old 
king  died,  alone  save  for  me.  I  sent  messengers  to  Judea  to 
inform  the  young  prince  of  his  father's  death,  and  to  urge  him 
to  return  to  Babylon  without  delay.  A  conspiracy  was  formed 
to  wrest  the  throne  from  him  ere  he  could  return,  but  I 
thwarted  it.  Son,  looking  at  these  silver  locks  and  this  wasted 
form,  thou  wouldst  not  think  me  a  royal  personage.  Yet  I, 
even  I,  was  king-regent  of  Babylon,  that  mighty  empire.  The 
prince  hurried  home,  crossing  the  desert  with  only  his  body- 
guard as  an  escort  and  reached  Babylon  in  less  than  thirty  days. 
I  turned  the  throne  over  to  him  and  he  held  it  for  three  and 
forty  years.  He  fought  many  wars,  extending  his  dominions 
in  every  direction.  In  his  old  age  he  turned  his  thoughts  to 
building,  and  made  of  his  capital  city  the  greatest  and  most 
beautiful  city  in  the  world. 


22  RHESA 

'"After  mounting  his  throne  he  forgot  the  Chaldean,  his 
teacher,  who  kept  his  inheritance  for  him.  He  dreamed  a 
dream  which  I  could  not  interpret  for  him,  and  he  would  have 
put  all  the  wise  men  to  death  but  for  one  Daniel,  a  Hebrew, 
who  revealed  to  him  its  meaning.  Daniel  was  placed  over 
me  and  became  the  greatest  man  in  Babylon.  I  stayed  in  the 
temple  and  worshiped  the  gods,  waiting  for  the  day  to  come 
when  Kuri-Sipak  should  again  become  great.  I  lived  to  see 
the  great  Nebuchadnezzar  become  as  a  beast  of  the  field,  crawl- 
ing upon  all  fours  and  eating  grass  with  the  beasts.  During 
these  years  Daniel,  the  Hebrew,  ruled  in  conjunction  with 
Neriglissar,  the  rab  mag;  but  my  time  was  coming.  Nebu- 
chadnezzar recovered  from  his  strange  malady  but  his  strength 
was  gone  and  in  less  than  a  year  he  died.  His  son  Evil- 
Merodach  *  succeeded  him.  He  was  forty  years  of  age  when 
he  became  king,  just  in  the  prime  of  his  noble  manhood,  but 
the  gods,  through  men,  decreed  that  his  reign  should  be  a  short 
one.  As  a  youth  he  had  been  a  constant  visitor  at  the  temple, 
and  from  me  he  had  learned  much  of  history  and  science. 
When  he  became  king  he  remembered  the  old  man,  his  in- 
structor. He  restored  me  to  the  position  I  had  held  under  his 
grandfather,  and  the  Hebrew,  Daniel,  became  merely  one  of 
the  wise  men. 

"  'All  now  seemed  bright  before  me  and  I  gave  thanks  to 
the  gods  for  permitting  me  to  enjoy  a  peaceful  old  age.  For 
one  year  and  nine  months  we  lived  in  happiness  and  then  came 
the  fatal  hour,  the  hour  in  which  Babylon's  glory  began  to 
fade.  Among  the  men  displaced  by  Evil-Merodach  when  he 
became  king  was  the  former  rab  mag,  Neriglissar.  This  man 
became  enraged  at  the  good  king  for  setting  at  liberty  the  king 
of  the  Jews,  who  had  been  in  prison  all  these  years,  and  began 
conspiring  against  his  master.  With  some  twenty  nobles  as 
base  as  himself  this  Assyrian,  (for,  thanks  be  to  Bel,  he  was 
not  of  Chaldea,)  hatched  his  plot. 

"  'One  evening  I  was  in  the  palace  conversing  with  the  king 

*  Amil-Marduk  in  native  texts. 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT  23 

upon  the  subject  of  astronomy,  a  study  for  which  he  had  a 
great  passion.  We  were  in  the  midst  of  a  friendly  debate 
when  a  eunuch  entered  and  informed  the  king  that  Neriglissar 
was  without  and  desired  an  interview  with  him.  The  kind- 
hearted  monarch  bade  me  withdraw  for  a  few  moments.  I 
obeyed  and  a  moment  later  while  walking  through  the  corridor, 
someone  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder  and  whispered  my  name. 
I  turned  quickly  and  recognized  one  of  the  younger  priests 
from  the  temple. 

"  'Quick,  father,'  said  he,  'they  are  murdering  the  king.' 

'  'I  became  as  a  madman.  Not  knowing  what  I  did  I  rushed 
to  the  queen's  apartment  and  told  her  of  the  dire  event.  With 
all  the  bravery  of  her  nature  she  picked  up  her  babe,  the  young 
prince  Sheshbazzar,  and  started  for  the  king's  library,  that  be- 
ing the  room  I  had  just  left. 

'  'Most  mighty  queen,'  I  cried,  'imperil  not  thy  life  and 
the  life  of  Babylon's  future  king.' 

"'Shall  Nitocris  fear  to  die  with  her  husband?'  answered 
the  queen  with  all  the  dignity  of  the  wife  of  one  king  and 
the  daughter  of  another. 

"  'She  went  not  far,  however,  for  scarcely  ten  feet  from 
her  chamber  door,  she  met  the  king  running  from  his  enemies. 
She  turned  and  led  her  lord  into  her  own  apartment. 

'  'They  dare  not  enter  the  chamber  of  their  queen,'  she  cried. 

"  'She  gave  too  great  credit  to  the  assassins,  however,  for 
the  royal  party  had  barely  entered  her  apartment  when  their 
enemies  were  upon  them.  Just  as  the  ruffians  entered  some  one 
pulled  my  gown.  I  turned  and  saw  a  slave  girl,  the  young 
prince's  nurse,  holding  a  child  in  her  arms. 

"  'Change  my  boy  for  the  young  prince,'  she  whispered  tear- 
fully. 

"I  saw  her  meaning  at  once  and,  taking  the  child  from  her, 
I  rushed  toward  the  queen.  In  a  few  whispered  words  I  told 
her  of  the  plan  to  save  her  babe  and  the  change  was  effected. 
With  the  little  prince  in  my  arms  I  escaped  through  a  side 


24  RHESA 

door.     Just  outside  the  door  I  met  the  young  priest  who  had 
first  warned  me  of  the  plot. 

'  'Here,  take  this  child  to  the  temple  and  watch  it  as  thou 
wouldst  the  holy  fire  on  the  altar/  I  whispered. 

"He  bowed  silently  and,  hiding  the  child  in  the  folds  of  his 
gown,  left  the  palace.  I  returned  to  the  queen's  apartment, 
determined  to  die  with  my  king.  I  was  too  late  to  be  of  any 
service.  The  good  monarch  lay  upon  the  floor,  pierced  by  a 
dozen  swords.  Across  his  body  lay  that  of  the  slave  girl's  babe. 
The  queen,  loved  by  every  inhabitant  of  Babylon,  was  un- 
molested. She  stood  as  an  image  of  stone,  gazing  calmly  at 
the  murderers  of  her  husband.  I  shall  never  forget  how  she 
looked,  her  dark  Egyptian  eyes  flashing  fire. 

"  'Go,'  she  cried,  pointing  to  the  doorway,  'you  have  done 
your  worst.  Leave  the  chamber  of  your  queen  at  once.' 

As  Neriglissar  turned  to  depart  his  venomous  eye  fell  on  me, 

'  'Ha,  Kuri,  hast  thou  escaped  our  vengeance?  Think  not 
it  is  for  long.  The  fate  of  the  master  is  none  too  good  for 
the  man,'  he  said. 

"  'Good  Kuri,'  said  the  queen  after  they  had  gone,  'save 
thyself.  For  thine  act  this  night  all  Babylon  will  some  day 
honor  thee.  When  that  babe,  saved  by  thee  this  night,  shall 
have  grown  to  manhood  he  will  avenge  this  murder  and  then 
the  name  of  Kuri-Sipak  shall  become  an  honored  one.  Go 
now  and  save  thyself  while  there  is  yet  time.' 

"I  departed,  leaving  the  palace  by  the  same  secret  way  the 
young  priest  had  taken,  and  made  my  way  across  the  city  to 
the  temple.  Knowing  full  well  the  threat  of  Neriglissar  was 
not  an  idle  one,  I  made  preparations  for  my  escape.  I  dyed 
my  hair  and  beard  and  disguised  myself  as  a  Hebrew.  Taking 
with  me  a  few  of  my  precious  documents,  I  left  the  temple, 
accompanied  by  the  young  priest  in  whose  charge  I  had  placed 
the  babe.  I  had  with  me  a  small  block  of  clay  bearing  the 
impression  of  King  Evil-Merodach's  seal  and  with  its  aid  I 
was  able  to  pass  through  the  gates.  Just  outside  the  city  I 
parted  from  my  companion. 


A  NIGHT  ON  THE  DESERT  25 

"  'Watch  over  that  babe  as  thou  wouldst  thine  own  life. 
He  is  Sheshbazzar,  the  king  of  Babylon.  Keep  his  name  a 
secret.  Bring  him  up  as  thine  own  child  and  when  the  proper 
time  comes,  reveal  unto  him  his  identity  and  urge  him  to 
avenge  this  night's  deed,'  said  I  in  parting. 

"Then  we  said  farewell,  he  reentering  the  city  and  I  start- 
ing upon  my  journey,  which  led  I  knew  not  whither.  Night 
after  night  I  tramped  on,  hiding  by  day  wherever  I  could  find 
a  shelter,  until  at  last  I  came  upon  this  cave.  Here  I  have 
remained  during  the  three  years  that  have  now  elapsed  since 
the  night  my  king  was  murdered  and  here  I  expect  to  die. 
Never  more  shall  I  look  upon  that  great  city  whose  every 
brick  is  dear  to  me,  nor  look  into  the  faces  of  my  old  com- 
panions. Kuri-Sipak  is  forgotten  already,  but  here  I  am  de- 
termined to  die.  Here  I  am  at  leisure  to  study  and  write  as 
I  desire,  and  here  I  am  far  removed  from  ambitious,  plotting 
men.  Only  a  mile  from  here  I  found  a  bed  of  clay  which 
will  furnish  me  with  all  the  writing  materials  I  can  use  in 
the  short  life  yet  remaining  to  me.  Son,  I  am  going  to  exact 
of  thee  a  pledge.  Promise  me  thou  wilt  notice  well  the  loca- 
tion of  this  cave  and  twenty  years  hence  come  here,  bury  my 
poor  bones  and  take  away  my  writings  with  thee  that  the  world 
may  have  the  benefit  of  my  studies.  I  see  thou  art  not  a 
Babylonian,  so  I  cannot  ask  thee  to  assist  Sheshbazzar  when 
he  arises  to  claim  that  which  is  his  right.'  " 

"The  old  man  bowed  his  head  when  he  had  finished  speak- 
ing," continued  Rastagus,  "but  when  I  arose  to  speak  he  looked 
up  at  me  in  a  solemn  impressive  manner.  'Hear  me,'  said  I,  'I 
am  not  a  Babylonian,  but  a  Mede,  yet  I  swear  to  thee,  should 
I  live  to  see  Sheshbazzar  striving  to  win  his  throne,  I,  Mede 
though  I  am,  with  what  followers  I  can  command,  will  go 
to  his  assistance.'  " 

"So  thou  seest,  good  Nabomuran,  neither  Nabonidos  nor 
Belshazzar  is  thy  true  king.  This  rescued  child  should  now 
be  a  man  of  twenty-two  or  twenty-three,  fully  old  enough  to 
claim  his  right.  I  ask  of  thee  a  pledge.  Wilt  thou  promise 


26  RHESA 

that  when  Sheshbazzar  stands  forth,  declares  himself  and  seeks 
to  gain  his  throne,  thou  wilt  send  a  messenger  to  Rastagus  the 
Mede,  that  I  may  fulfill  the  promise  made  to  Kuri-Sipak  the 
Chaldean?" 

"I  promise  that  most  willingly,"  answered  the  Babylonian. 
"Hear  me,  good  Rastagus,  while  I  make  a  vow.  When  Shesh- 
bazzar stands  forth  to  claim  his  right,  I  swear  by  Bel  and  Nebo, 
Nabomuran  shall  espouse  his  cause  and  help  to  wrest  the 
throne  from  those  who  now  occupy  it." 

The  Mede  bowed  solemnly  as  the  Babylonian  made  his  vow ; 
then,  before  rising  he  asked:  "Hast  thou  ever  heard  of  this 
rescued  babe  before?" 

"A  priest  once  told  me  it  was  so  reported  at  the  time  of  Evil- 
Merodach's  murder,  but  of  late  people  seem  to  have  forgotten 
it.  From  this  day  forth  I  shall  make  it  my  duty  to  hunt 
diligently  for  this  man  and  apprise  him  of  his  royal  rights," 
answered  Nabomuran. 

"The  night  is  now  far  spent,"  said  the  Mede.  "Therefore 
I  will  bid  thee  farewell  till  the  morrow." 

The  two  men  embraced  each  other  warmly  and  then  parted 
for  the  night.  Nabomuran  stood  in  the  low  arched  doorway 
of  his  apartment  and  watched  Rastagus  as  he  walked  across  the 
sandy  floor  of  the  enclosure  toward  his  sleeping-place.  After 
he  had  entered  his  apartment  the  young  Babylonian  turned  back, 
and  bidding  a  kind  farewell  to  his  two  subordinates,  who  had 
departed  immediately  after  Rastagus,  he  wrapped  himself  in 
his  cloak  .and  lay  down  to  a  well  earned  rest. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   GO.LDEN    CITY 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  following  the  fore- 
going events,  a  small  party  was  approaching  Babylon  from  the 
southwest.  It  consisted  only  of  Nabomuran,  Heber,  and  the 


THE  GOLDEN  CITY  27 

old  Jew  and  his  daughter.  The  Winged  Lions  had  remained 
behind  at  Borsippa  under  the  command  of  Belibus,  there  to 
remain  until  the  morning  of  Belshazzar's  inauguration  day 
when  they  were  to  report  to  their  commander  on  the  parade 
ground  east  of  the  great  temple.  Rastagus  the  Mede  had  risen 
early  upon  the  morning  following  his  stay  on  the  desert  and, 
bidding  his  host  a  hasty  farewell,  had  tramped  off  across  the 
desert  toward  the  north  in  search  of  his  followers. 

The  old  Jew  and  his  daughter  had  realized  how  seriously 
their  riding  in  litters  impeded  the  progress  of  their  companions 
and  they  therefore  volunteered  to  ride  upon  horses.  Nabomuran 
was  overjoyed  at  receiving  their  proposal,  as  his  presence  in  the 
capital  at  least  two  days  before  the  coronation  was  imperative. 
He  improvised  a  side-saddle  upon  which  the  fair  Orma  sat  with 
rare  grace.  The  young  commander  rode  alone  at  the  head  of 
the  little  company.  His  servant,  Heber,  rode  in  silence  just 
behind  him. 

Heber  had  been  strangely  silent  and  perplexed  during  the 
two  days  since  the  night  on  the  desert,  when  after  three  years 
of  separation  and  misunderstanding,  he  had  been  received  again 
into  his  father's  love.  Over  and  over  again  since  his  recon- 
ciliation had  he  revolved  the  question  of  his  duty.  Should  he 
leave  his  master  and  return  to  his  father's  habitation  or  should 
he  remain  with  the  Babylonian,  at  whose  hands  he  had  received 
so  many  kindnesses?  It  was  a  difficult  question  to  decide  and 
it  was  not  until  the  last  moment  that  his  choice  was  made. 

Though  Nabomuran  had  traveled  over  the  famous  thorough- 
fare many  times  before,  the  first  view  of  Babylon  as  he  ap- 
proached the  city  from  the  southwest  was  always  impressive. 
Scarcely  had  the  topmost  stage  of  the  great  temple  of  Nebo  at 
Borsippa  *  faded  from  the  view  ere  the  dazzling  sunlight,  re- 
flected from  the  gilded  roof  of  the  temple  of  Belus,  struck  the 
travelers'  eyes.  The  sun  was  nearly  upon  the  horizon  but 

*  The  ruins  of  this  remarkable  building  are  still  standing  about 
fifteen  miles  to  the  southwest  of  the  ruins  of  Babylon.  It  was  at  one 
time  thought  to  be  the  traditional  Tower  of  Babel. 


28  RHESA 

its  rays  still  lingered  upon  the  majestic  pinnacle  of  the  great 
temple.  The  road  they  were  traversing  was  straight  and  wide 
and  the  most  frequented  thoroughfare  in  Babylonia.  Upon  this 
particular  afternoon,  however,  it  was  well  nigh  deserted.  A 
quarter  of  a  mile  ahead  were  two  horsemen.  Off  to  the  east 
a  company  of  Jews  could  be  seen  tilling  a  large  wheatfield, 
through  which  flowed  one  of  Nebuchadnezzar's  irrigating 
canals.  Still  farther  east  the  hazy  atmosphere  betokened  the 
vicinity  of  the  Euphrates,  that  great  river  whose  waters  washed 
the  shores  of  Paradise  in  the  days  before  man  fell  from  his  divine 
estate. 

The  road  at  this  point  was  lined  with  vast  grain  fields  just 
ready  for  the  first  harvest  and  in  some  of  the  fields  laborers 
with  long  sickles  were  at  work  cutting  the  golden  stalks.  Occa- 
sionally a  grove  of  majestic  palms  varied  the  monotony  of 
the  usually  treeless  country.  Every  few  rods  they  passed  some 
tomb  wherein  lay  the  bones  of  some  great  man,  who  possibly 
had  witnessed  those  glories  of  Babylon  that  were  now  upon 
the  decline. 

So  impressed  were  the  members  of  the  party  with  the  scenes 
of  beauty  about  them,  that  they  rode  on  in  perfect  silence,  all 
lost  in  admiration  of  the  wonderful  panorama.  The  hitherto 
indistinct  mass  that  denoted  the  situation  of  the  great  city  was 
now  rapidly  becoming  clear.  The  sun's  rays  no  longer  made 
of  the  temple  roof  a  huge  dazzling  mirror  and  they  could  gaze 
upon  the  beauty  of  the  city  without  inconvenience  to  their  eyes. 
Already  the  walls,  crowned  with  their  numberless  watch  towers, 
were  easily  distinguished  and  even  the  little  moving  dots  of 
men  upon  its  summit  were  clearly  seen. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  they  rode  over  the  brow  of  a 
slight  elevation  and  began  descending  its  eastern  slope  that  the 
real  view  of  the  city  burst  upon  them.  There  at  their  feet  lay 
the  mistress  of  the  world,  proud  Babylon,  "the  glory  of  king- 
doms, the  beauty  of  the  Chaldees'  excellency,"  as  she  was  termed 
by  the  prophet  Isaiah.  No  first  view  of  any  modern  city  could 


THE  GOLDEN  CITY  29 

compare  with  the  wonderful  stupendousness  of  the  scene  be- 
neath them.  The  great  wall,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  *  in 
height  and  fourteen  miles  on  each  face,  (a  total  circumference 
of  fifty-six  miles)  lay  immediately  before  them,  stretching  away 
in  either  direction  from  the  gate  they  were  about  to  enter. 
The  upper  stories  of  the  great  pyramidal  temple  rose  heaven- 
ward many  feet  above  the  walls.  All  other  buildings  within 
the  city  were  invisible  from  their  vantage  point,  so  complete 
and  high  were  the  mammoth  bulwarks  that  separated  the  people 
of  Babylon  from  their  enemies. 

At  the  base  of  the  great  outer  wall  ran  a  wide,  deep  moat 
denying  access  to  the  city  after  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

At  that  hour  the  sentinels  on  duty  lifted  the  long  palm  wood 
bridges  and  closed  the  great  brazen  gates.  After  that  time  no 
man  could  enter  or  depart  without  a  pass  from  the  king  or  the 
rab  mag.  As  it  was  now  nearly  the  closing  time,  Nabomuran 
urged  his  steed  into  a  gallop  and  motioned  his  companions  to 
do  likewise.  A  few  moments  later  they  galloped  over  the  nar- 
row bridge  and  passed  through  the  great  Shamas  Bab  (sun 
gate),  the  largest  and  most  important  of  the  twenty-five  gates 
piercing  the  great  wall  on  its  western  face. 

The  party  were  now  within  the  precincts  of  the  great  city 
but  they  were  by  no  means  at  their  journey's  end.  A  wide 
belt  of  land,  mostly  under  cultivation,  although  a  few  low 
cottages  were  to  be  seen,  lay  between  them  and  the  inner  wall 
of  the  city.  There  was  no  longer  need  of  unusual  haste,  for 
the  inner  gates  were  closed  only  in  times  of  emergency  and 
the  bridge  over  the  river  was  not  removed  until  late  in  the 
evening.  Inside  the  wall  the  scene  was  entirely  changed. 
From  a  mere  highway  the  Borsipian  road  had  become  a  wide 
and  well  paved  thoroughfare.  Like  the  other  streets  of  the 
city  it  was  as  straight  as  an  arrow.  Every  two-thirds  of  a 

*  The  figures  of  Q.  Curtius  whose  estimate  is  about  midway  between 
the  highest  and  lowest  of  other  writers.  Herodotus  makes  them  three 
hundred  and  thirty  feet  high  while  Strabo  calls  them  only  seventy  five 
feet.  It  is  difficult  to  reconcile  these  various  estimates. 


30  RHESA 

mile  marked  a  square  where  another  street,  as  wide  and  well 
paved,  crossed  it  at  right  angles. 

As  the  party  neared  the  inner  wall  they  began  to  meet  more 
people.  The  two  men  who  had  been  riding  ahead  of  them 
since  early  in  the  afternoon  were  now  but  a  few  feet  distant 
and  their  identity  could  be  established.  Hearing  the  tramp  of 
horses  so  near  them  the  two  priests  (for  such  their  attire  de- 
noted them)  turned  to  meet  the  party.  Nabomuran  halted, 
dismounted  and  advanced  to  meet  the  elder  of  the  priests,  who 
also  dismounted.  They  met  midway  between  the  two  com- 
panies, falling  upon  each  other's  necks  in  true  Oriental  fashion. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  thee  safely  returned,  my  son,"  said  the  old 
priest. 

"Thanks  be  to  the  gods  I  am  permitted  to  behold  thee  once 
more,  my  father.  It  seems  years  instead  of  months  since  we 
parted,"  answered  Nabomuran. 

The  soldier  presented  his  father  and  the  other  priest  to  his 
fellow-travelers  and  then  the  enlarged  party  moved  forward 
again.  A  few  rods  farther  on  they  again  came  to  a  halt,  this 
time  at  a  call  from  Nehum.  The  young  commander  again  dis- 
mounted, going  directly  to  the  side  of  the  Jewess,  whom  he 
assisted  to  the  ground.  The  house  before  which  they  halted 
was  typical  of  the  suburbs  of  the  great  city.  It  was  constructed 
entirely  of  brick  and  was  roofed  with  timbers  of  palm  wood, 
covered  with  highly  glazed  tiles.  Along  its  western  face  ran 
a  long  low  veranda,  supported  by  columns  of  palm  wood,  en- 
circled with  bunches  of  reeds,  the  whole  covered  with  plaster 
and  painted  a  light  blue,  contrasting  strangely  with  the  somber 
hue  of  the  house  itself.  While  it  was  only  two  stories  in  height 
the  building  spread  out  over  considerable  ground.  The  occupa- 
tion of  such  a  house  proved  Nehum  to  be  a  man  of  some  import- 
ance and  wealth. 

"Noble  sir,"  said  the  old  Jew,  taking  the  soldier's  hand,  "I 
cannot  express  my  gratitude  to  thee  for  our  rescue  and  pro- 
tection. Here  I  dwell  while  in  this  land,  and  here  I  shall  be 
pleased  to  welcome  thee  at  any  time." 


THE  GOLDEN  CITY  31 

"My  poor  service  is  of  little  account,  but  I  thank  thee  for 
thine  invitation,  and  hope  to  avail  myself  of  it,"  replied  the 
soldier. 

Orma  came  forward  shyly  but  yet  with  an  air  of  perfect 
self-possession. 

"I  can  but  repeat  my  father's  words,"  she  said. 

"Fair  lady,"  replied  Nabomuran,  "I  am  indeed  happy  if  I 
have  been  of  any  service  to  thee.  I  hope  I  may  have  the 
pleasure  of  again  meeting  thee  when  I  call  at  thy  abode." 

The  farewells  were  said  and  the  two  Jews  turned  to  enter 
the  path  that  led  up  to  their  habitation.  Nehum  stopped  sud- 
denly and  turned  to  his  son,  who  sat  silent  and  gloomy  upon 
his  horse's  back. 

"Heber,  my  son,  stayest  thou  here  with  us  or  wilt  thou 
continue  with  thy  kind  master?"  he  asked. 

Nabomuran  hastened  to  say:  "Decide  for  thyself,  Heber.  If 
thou  wishest  to  remain  with  thy  father  thou  hast  my  consent." 

The  young  man  sat  silent  for  a  moment,  his  head  bowed  upon 
his  breast.  Throughout  the  day  he  had  been  dreading  this 
moment  and  now  that  it  was  come  he  still  was  unprepared 
to  make  the  decision.  He  felt  the  eyes  of  all  upon  him  and 
it  embarrassed  him.  After  some  moments  he  answered:  "I 
will  stay  with  my  master  for  the  present." 

"So  be  it,"  answered  his  father,  disappointed  at  the  decision. 

The  sentinels  at  the  inner  gate  bowed  deferentially  to  the 
two  noblemen  as  they  rode  through  into  the  city  proper.  From 
a  rural  suburb  they  had  now  passed  into  a  thickly-settled,  popu- 
lous city.  The  Borsipian  road,  still  retaining  the  same  name, 
was  lined  upon  both  sides  with  the  residences  of  the  wealthy 
and  the  noble.  Houses  three  and  four  stories  high,  surrounded 
by  spacious  grounds  and  gardens  followed  each  other  in  rapid 
succession.  It  was  a  brilliant  and  beautiful  sight.  The  cool 
of  the  evening  had  arrived  and  many  of  the  residents  were 
enjoying  themselves,  sitting  upon  their  broad  verandas  or  stroll- 
ing through  their  gardens.  From  out  of  some  of  the  houses 
floated  the  sounds  of  music,  the  sweet  low  chords  of  the  harp 


32  RHESA 

and  sambuca,  the  shrill  toot  of  the  horn  or  the  weird  strains 
of  the  symphonia.  Occasionally  a  woman's  voice  could  be  heard 
rehearsing  in  song  some  old  tale  of  the  gods  or  of  Gilgames,  the 
Babylonian  Hercules. 

Beyond  the  fashionable  dwellings  came  a  few  houses  of 
business,  after  which  the  street  came  to  an  abrupt  end  at  a 
broad  stairway  leading  up  the  mound  on  whose  summit  the  old 
palace  (now  very  seldom  used  as  a  royal  residence)  was  erected. 
This  palace  had  several  times  been  assigned  to  the  Winged 
Lions  as  a  barrack.  Here  they  were  obliged  to  make  a  detour, 
going  completely  around  the  palace  and  emerging  upon  the 
river  just  north  of  it.  The  platforms  of  the  drawbridge  were 
in  place,  and  they  galloped  over.  Had  they  been  too  late  for 
the  bridge,  they  would  have  been  obliged  to  cross  the  river  in 
a  boat,  leaving  their  horses  on  the  western  side  until  morning. 
Once  upon  the  eastern  side  of  the  river  they  urged  their  steeds 
forward  and  fifteen  minutes  later  entered  the  precincts  of  the 
great  temple.  They  rode  around  the  base  of  the  enormous 
building,  and  out  at  the  northern  gateway  of  the  enclosure, 
emerging  upon  a  street  lined  with  rows  of  houses,  all  save 
one  built  after  a  uniform  design.  The  first  house  on  the 
northern  side  of  the  street  was  larger  and  more  pretentious  than 
its  neighbors.  Before  this  house  they  came  to  a  stop  and  dis- 
mounted. The  gate  was  opened  and  three  servants  came  out. 
Two  of  them  took  charge  of  the  horses  and  the  third  led  the 
way  into  the  dwelling.  The  young  priest,  who  had  been 
Neboakhu's  traveling  companion,  dismounted  with  the  others, 
and  gave  his  horse  to  a  servant,  but  instead  of  entering  the 
house  (the  chief  priest's  home),  he  walked  on  to  his  own  resi- 
dence. 

As  soon  as  Neboakhu  and  Nabomuran  had  removed  the 
stains  of  travel,  supper  was  served  in  the  dining  room  of  the 
dwelling.  While  they  were  yet  sitting  at  the  table,  a  servant 
called  out  Nabomuran.  The  soldier  emptied  the  wine  goblet 
he  was  holding  and  passed  through  into  the  reception  room 
where  a  magnificently  dressed  man  about  fifty  years  of  age, 


THE  GOLDEN  CITY  33 

awaited  him.  As  Nabomuran  entered  the  room,  the  visitor 
arose  to  greet  him. 

"Allow  me  to  be  the  first  to  welcome  thee  home  to  Babylon," 
said  the  visitor. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  thee,  noble  Vulmaran,"  replied  the  soldier. 
"How  go  matters  at  the  palace?" 

"Our  lord  Merodach  has  been  with  thee  I  see,"  continued 
the  courtier.  "Thou  hast  returned  looking  more  comely  than 
before.  The  king  is  more  inactive  than  ever,  takes  more 
pleasure  in  the  vanities  of  life  and  seems  to  have  lost  all  the 
ambitions  he  once  possessed.  He  is  daily  becoming  craftier, 
more  cruel,  and  harder  to  please." 

"And  the  young  prince?"  asked  the  soldier. 

"Belshazzar,  with  all  the  exuberance  of  childhood  looks  for- 
ward eagerly  to  his  coming  inauguration.  He  thinks  not  of 
the  cares  and  responsibilities  the  office  carries  with  it;  he  sees 
only  the  glory  and  the  tinsel,"  answered  the  rab  mag,  that 
being  the  courtier's  position. 

"The  young  prince  was  my  pupil  in  archery  and  other  sports. 
Does  he  still  take  interest  in  such  matters?" 

"Nay,"  replied  Vulmaran,  "behind  his  years  in  physical 
power,  he  is  far  ahead  of  them  in  sensuality.  Already  he  takes 
the  greatest  delight  in  his  wine  and  his  women." 

"Alas,  Vulmaran,"  said  Nabomuran  sadly,  "this  nation  is 
illy  prepared  to  meet  Cyrus  with  his  countless  hosts  of  well- 
trained  men,  all  inured  to  hardship.  Neither  Nabonidos  nor 
Belshazzar  is  the  man  to  lead  the  armies  of  Babylon  against  her 
enemies." 

"Thou  art  right,"  answered  the  official.  "When  fighting 
comes  thou  art  the  man  on  whom  we  must  depend.  But  I  am 
forgetting  mine  errand  hither.  The  king  has  been  informed  of 
thy  arrival  and  has  sent  me  to  summon  thee  to  the  royal 
presence  at  once.  My  chariot  stands  without  ready  to  carry 
thee  to  the  palace." 

"If  I  am  to  visit  royalty  I  must  change  my  attire.  I  will  not 
keep  thee  waiting  long,"  said  Nabomuran. 


34  RHESA 

"I  will  wait  patiently,"  said  the  rab  mag. 

Vulmaran  reclined  upon  a  luxurious  divan  while  the  soldier 
was  changing  his  attire.  When  the  young  man  again  entered 
the  room  the  official  arose  to  meet  him,  as  before,  but  more 
particularly  to  look  him  over.  Critical  as  was  this  court  re- 
tainer, he  could  find  nothing  amiss  in  the  soldier's  attire.  From 
head  to  foot  he  was  the  gentleman  of  rank,  wearing  his  jasper 
seal  and  carrying  his  gold-headed  cane. 

"Thou  wilt  do,"  said  the  courtier. 

They  left  the  house  together  and  entered  the  gaudy  chariot 
of  Vulmaran.  The  driver  applied  the  lash  and  away  rolled 
the  vehicle  over  the  smooth  pavement.  Just  as  they  started 
the  moon  arose  from  behind  the  temple  and  flooded  their  way 
with  light,  illuminating  the  buildings  as  they  passed.  Two  of 
the  palace  gates  were  closed  but  Vulmaran's  pass  caused  them 
to  open  in  succession.  The  third  and  innermost  portal  had 
not  been  closed.  With  a  final  flourish  the  driver  reined  in 
his  steeds  before  the  great  emblasoned  entrance  of  the  royal 
palace.  The  rows  of  guards  standing  in  the  porch  saluted  as 
the  two  men  passed  between  them.  The  rab  mag  led  the  way 
through  the  deserted  hallway  to  a  large  room,  the  royal  library. 
At  the  doorway  they  were  detained  while  a  enunch  carried  their 
names  to  the  king.  He  returned  in  a  moment. 

"It  is  the  will  and  pleasure  of  the  king  that  the  noble 
Nabomuran  enter  his  presence.  Thou,  noble  Vulmaran,  he 
bids  seek  thy  home  for  the  night,  but  he  desires  thy  company 
early  in  the  morning,"  said  the  eunuch. 

Nabomuran  bade  the  rab  mag  good  night,  and  entered  the 
room.  Vulmaran  remained  outside  a  moment. 

"Remember,  Gaddina,  I  want  a  report  of  this  interview,"  he 
said  to  the  eunuch.  The  man  bowed  and  slipped  silently 
through  the  draperies  of  the  doorway. 

"I  like  not  the  presence  of  this  young  man  at  this  time.  I 
have  nothing  against  him  personally,  but  I  fear  he  will  stand  in 
my  way,  especially  if  my  suspicions  concerning  him  are  correct. 
Beware,  Nabomuran,  cross  not  my  path  for  I  am  desperate." 


THE  GOLDEN  CITY  35 

After  thus  apostrophizing  the  absent  soldier  the  wily  rab 
mag  left  the  palace. 

The  apartment  entered  by  the  soldier  was  a  spacious  and 
magnificent  one,  one  hundred  feet  in  length  by  sixty  in  width. 
Its  walls  were  of  glazed  bricks  whose  surface  bore  many  pic- 
tured scenes  of  war  and  hunt.  Chief  among  the  scenes  were 
those  illustrating  the  campaigns  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  by  whom 
the  building  had  been  erected. 

With  slow  step  and  bowed  head  Nabomuran  approached  the 
eastern  end  of  the  apartment  where,  upon  a  couch  covered  with 
those  rare  rugs  and  carpets  for  which  Babylon  was  noted, 
beneath  a  rich  canopy  of  embroidered  muslin,  reclined  a  man 
in  middle  life.  His  size  and  shape  were  not  clearly  visible  but 
one  would  call  him  short  and  extremely  stout.  One  bare  ankle 
which  projected  from  beneath  his  costly  linen  gown,  was  fat 
and  flabby.  His  hair  and  beard,  which  once  had  been  as  black 
as  Nabomuran's  own,  were  now  liberally  besprinkled  with  silver. 
His  eyes  were  small  and  deep  set.  The  whole  bearing  of  the  man, 
was  one  of  luxurious  effeminacy.  This  was  Nabonidos,  king 
of  Babylon,  a  man  once  noted  for  his  strength  and  activity; 
now  sunk  into  the  depths  of  gluttony,  drunkenness  and  lascivi- 
ousness. 

The  king  was  the  only  occupant  of  the  room,  it  plainly  being 
his  desire  to  have  the  interview  a  private  one.  Nabomuran 
approached  the  raised  platform  upon  which  the  monarch's 
couch  rested,  and  knelt  upon  the  lowest  step. 

"I  am  here  at  thy  command,  O  King,"  he  said. 

"Arise,  Nabomuran,  we  will  dispense  with  all  formality  to- 
night, our  busines  being  of  the  utmost  importance,"  said  the 
monarch,  his  shrill  falsetto  voice  contrasting  with  the  deep  bari- 
tone of  the  soldier. 

"I  first  desire  a  full  report  of  thy  mission  to  Judea,"  con- 
tinued the  king. 

Nabomuran  narrated  every  incident  of  his  journey,  from  the 
day  he  left  Babylon  until  he  returned,  omitting  only  his  meet- 
ing with  Rastagus. 


36  RHESA 

"Thy  report  is  satisfactory.  I  then  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  Judea?" 

"I  would  no  greater  danger  was  near  than  a  rising  there. 
The  country  is  in  ruins;  the  inhabitants  too  few  and  too  poor 
to  think  of  rebellion,"  replied  the  soldier. 

"My  greatest  fear,"  said  the  monarch,  "is  of  trouble  here 
in  the  city.  The  rumors  concerning  one  Sheshbazzar,  who  is 
said  to  be  the  son  of  Evil-Merodach,  are  continually  spreading. 
I  have  used  every  means  to  find  the  man  but  without  avail. 
It  is  said  he  knows  nothing  of  his  royal  birth  but  certain  dis- 
contented nobles  are  seeking  for  him  to  urge  him  to  rebellion. 
Hast  thou  ever  heard  of  the  man?" 

During  this  speech  Nabonidos  had  kept  his  eyes  fastened  upon 
the  young  man's  face,  studying  it  intently. 

"I  have  heard  it  said  the  babe  was  rescued  at  the  time  of 
Evil-Merodach's  murder,  but  if  such  a  man  exists  I  know  him 
not,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  believe  thy  words,  Nabomuran,"  said  the  king,  "and  I 
feel  that  I  can  depend  upon  thee.  I  have  been  told  that  a  plot 
to  seat  this  man  is  on  foot  and  is  liable  to  culminate  at  the 
time  of  our  son's  coronation.  I  give  it  thee  in  charge  to  look 
into  this  matter  and  put  down  such  a  rebellion  the  moment  it 
shows  its  head.  Where  is  thy  command?" 

"At  Borsippa,  O  King." 

"It  is  my  pleasure  that  a  trusty  messenger  be  sent  at  once, 
this  night,  to  bid  them  come  to  Babylon  with  all  haste.  I  place 
the  old  palace  at  thy  disposal.  Thou  hast  an  hundred  men?" 

"Precisely  an  hundred.  By  a  custom  instituted  at  the  time 
the  Winged  Lions  were  organized,  we  always  have  an  hundred 
men.  When  one  dies  or  withdraws,  another  is  ready  to  fill 
the  vacancy,"  replied  the  commander. 

"It  is  well,"  said  the  king.  "Thou  wilt  divide  thy  com- 
mand into  two  bands  of  fifty  men  each.  One  thou  wilt  com- 
mand; the  other,  Belibus.  Each  company  will  patrol  the  city 
twelve  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,  six  hours  on  duty  and 
six  hours  off.  Thus  by  day  and  by  night  thy  horsemen  will 


HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  37 

be  on  guard.  If  they  see  aught  suspicious,  the  infantry  will 
be  ordered  out.  Send  thy  messenger  at  once,  as  soon  as  he 
can  start.  Now  thou  canst  go." 

Nabomuran  made  a  profound  bow  and  withdrew. 


CHAPTER  IV 
HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE 

Nabomuran  left  the  royal  residence  by  the  way  he  had 
entered.  He  found  in  waiting  one  of  the  king's  chariots,  ready 
to  carry  him  to  his  home.  As  he  was  on  the  point  of  mounting 
it  a  servant  came  hurriedly  out  with  word  for  him  to  return 
to  the  king's  presence.  He  returned  at  once,  rinding  the  mon- 
arch lying  in  the  same  manner  as  during  the  previous  interview. 
Standing  at  the  end  of  the  king's  couch  was  a  bright  and  not 
unhandsome  youth  of  about  fifteen  years  of  age.  When  Nabo- 
muran entered  the  apartment  the  lad  left  his  station  and  ran 
down  the  room  to  meet  the  soldier.  Throwing  himself  into 
the  young  man's  arms,  he  cried:  "Welcome  home,  my  teacher. 
It  seems  ages  since  last  I  saw  thee." 

"Prince,  I  have  missed  one  who  was  so  apt  a  scholar,"  an- 
swered the  soldier.  "How  goes  the  practice?" 

"Alas!"  answered  Belshazzar,  "I  have  now  no  time  for  prac- 
tice. I  must  attend  the  councils  that  I  may  learn  the  ways  of 
government  for,  thou  knowest,  I  am  to  be  king." 

The  young  prince  danced  with  childish  glee  as  he  made  this 
announcement.  Truly  he  looked  forward  eagerly  to  his  coming 
responsibilities,  unconscious  of  the  trials  attendant  upon  king- 
ship. 

Nabomuran  stepped  forward  to  the  platform,  avoiding  any 
further  demonstration  on  the  boy's  part. 

"I  called  thee  back  to  give  thee  my  pass  that  will  enable 
thy  messenger  to  get  through  the  gates,"  said  the  king,  as  he 
handed  the  soldier  a  small  clay  tablet. 


38  RHESA 

Nabomuran  bowed  as  he  received  it.  Kneeling  he  kissed  the 
monarch's  outstretched  hand  and  then  withdrew.  He  passed 
out  through  the  great  ornamental  porch  and  entered  the  chariot, 
which  still  awaited  him.  The  return  trip  from  the  palace  was 
made  in  remarkable  time  and  no  wonder,  for  the  stables  of 
Nabonidos  were  famed  throughout  the  world. 

Upon  entering  his  own  dwelling  Nabomuran  removed  his 
slippers  and  walked  softly  down  the  wide  hall  to  his  own  small 
room  at  the  end.  He  silently  pushed  aside  the  heavy  draperies 
screening  the  entrance,  and  stepped  within.  Upon  a  couch 
in  the  farther  corner  of  the  chamber  lay  the  silent  form  of 
Heber,  wrapped  in  deep  slumber.  The  soldier  called:  "Heber, 
awake." 

There  was  no  response.  Again  the  soldier  called,  but  still 
there  was  no  movement  on  the  sleeper's  part  to  show  that  he 
heard  his  master.  Nabomuran  repeated  his  summons,  this  time 
placing  his  mouth  close  to  the  sleeper's  ear.  Heber  awoke  at 
the  last  call  and  seeing  his  master,  sprang  to  his  feet.  While 
he  hastily  attired  himself  Nabomuran  explained  the  cause  of  his 
nocturnal  visit. 

"The  king  bids  me  send  a  trusty  man  to  Borsippa  this  night 
and  order  the  Winged  Lions  to  march  at  once.  As  thou  art 
the  most  trusty  man  I  know,  it  is  my  wish  that  thou  shouldst 
carry  the  message.  Wilt  thou  undertake  it?  If  the  king's 
fears  are  not  without  grounds  the  journey  may  prove  a  danger- 
ous one,  but  I  feel  sure  thou  wilt  get  through  in  safety.  My 
horse  Saru  will  take  thee  as  the  wind,  after  which  he  is  named." 

"I  will  go,  master,"  was  the  young  man's  simple  answer. 

"Then  thou  wilt  call  Susa  and  bid  him  saddle  Saru  while  I 
indite  the  message  to  Belibus." 

Nabomuran  passed  down  the  stone  staircase  to  the  first  floor 
and  entered  the  room  used  as  the  library  or  study.  Here  a 
dim  light  was  burning.  With  his  keen-edged  dagger  he 
trimmed  the  wick  and  the  light  blazed  up  brightly.  Upon  a 
table  in  one  corner  of  the  room  stood  an  earthen  bowl  partially 
filled  with  soft,  damp  clay.  Taking  therefrom  a  handful  of 


HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  39 

the  clay  he  rolled  it  out  flat  with  a  bronze  roller,  carefully 
trimming  it  square  with  his  dagger.  Then  with  a  sharp  in- 
strument, he  began  indenting  upon  the  soft  clay  his  message  to 
his  lieutenant  and  friend.  It  read  thus: 

Babylon,  the  eighth  day  of  Tammuz.  in  the 
sixteenth  year  of  King  Nabonidos. 

Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard,  to  Belibus, 
Lieutenant,  Borsippa: — 

May  the  good  will  of  our  lords  Merodach  and  Bel  be  with 
thee  and  bless  thee  forever. 

I  send  thee  greeting,  my  Belibus,  and  with  it  a  message  from 
the  king,  may  Bel  be  his  comforter.  Thus  saith  the  king:  Bid 
the  Winged  Lions  come  to  Babylon  with  all  haste.  Come 
therefore  at  once ;  wait  not  for  the  light  of  day.  The  business 
of  the  king  is  urgent. 

Nabomuran. 

The  message  completed  the  soldier  took  the  tablet  and  passed 
through  into  the  kitchen  of  the  house,  where  a  small  kiln  stood 
ready  for  his  purpose.  Placing  the  tablet  in  the  kiln  he  turned 
and  retraced  his  steps  to  the  library,  where  he  sat  down  to 
await  Heber's  coming.  After  the  young  Jew's  entrance,  Nabo- 
muran reentered  the  kitchen,  removed  the  now  hardened  tablet 
from  the  kiln,  and  placed  it  in  a  leather  pouch.  Returning  to 
the  library  he  handed  the  pouch  to  Heber,  who  suspended  it 
about  his  neck  by  the  strap  intended  for  that  purpose.  The 
soldier  next  handed  him  the  king's  pass  which  he  slipped  into 
his  girdle  where  it  could  easily  be  located  when  needed. 

The  two  men  passed  out  into  the  entrance  hall  of  the  dwell- 
ing. After  a  silent  parting  embrace  Heber  stepped  out  into 
the  darkness  and  passed  down  the  steps  to  the  street.  Without 
the  door  stood  the  servant  Susa,  holding  Saru  firmly  by  the 
bridle.  The  noble  Arab  liked  not  the  idea  of  a  midnight  ride 
and  was  restlessly  pawing  the  ground.  Heber  gathered  his 
gown  about  his  loins  and  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  Susa  let  go 


40  RHESA 

his  hold  upon  the  animal's  bridle,  and  at  a  word  from  Heber 
Saru  bounded  forward,  shaking  his  head  viciously.  Heber 
reined  him  down  to  a  long,  steady  gallop,  well  calculated  to 
cover  the  distance  in  good  time. 

At  the  drawbridge  over  the  Euphrates  he  halted,  the  plat- 
forms not  being  in  place.  An  officer  appeared  to  whom  Heber 
showed  the  king's  pass. 

"Follow  me,"  he  said,  handing  back  the  tablet. 

With  one  hand  upon  Saru's  bridle  the  officer  led  the  way 
down  the  street  running  beside  the  river.  Just  south  of  the 
bridge  they  turned  to  the  right  and  descended  a  long,  inclined 
plane  that  led  down  to  a  dark  tunnel.  A  soldier  bearing  a 
small  lamp  came  out  of  a  brick  sentry-box  at  the  tunnel's  mouth. 
The  officer  turned  to  retrace  his  steps  and  Heber  followed  the 
soldier  into  the  tunnel.  Guided  by  the  flickering  light  Heber 
made  his  way  slowly  and  cautiously  over  the  slippery  pavement, 
Saru  resisting  at  every  step.  Over  their  heads  flowed  the  Eu- 
phrates, its  presence  manifested  by  the  all-pervading  dampness 
and  by  the  drops  of  water  that  percolated  through  the  brick 
lining  of  the  tunnel. 

Emerging  from  the  tunnel  on  the  western  bank  of  the  river 
Heber  waved  his  thanks  to  his  conductor  and  chirruped  to 
Saru  to  go  ahead  again.  The  horse  bounded  forward.  A 
moment  later  they  turned  a  corner  and  headed  toward  the 
west.  They  were  now  upon  the  Borsipian  road  and  Heber  felt 
relieved,  deeming  the  way  clear  before  him. 

Except  for  the  occasional  call  of  a  sentry  on  the  distant  walls 
Saru's  galloping  hoofs  were  the  only  disturbers  of  the  oppressive 
stillness.  Every  hoofbeat  sounded  loud  and  clear  upon  the 
hard  pavement.  There  was  joy  in  the  young  rider's  heart  as 
he  flew  along.  The  confidence  of  his  master  caused  a  sense 
of  his  own  importance  to  swell  up  within  him.  After  passing 
through  the  inner  wall,  horse  and  rider  settled  down  to  the 
work  before  them;  a  silent  fellowship  seemed  to  spring  up  be- 
teen  the  pair,  both  feeling  the  dignity  of  their  errand. 

Suddenly  Saru  reared   in  air   and  began  backing.     Heber 


HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  41 

tried  with  voice  and  blow  to  urge  him  onward,  but  without 
avail.  He  continued  backing,  his  whole  delicate  body  a  tremble. 

"Proceed  no  farther,"  called  a  low  voice,  and  a  moment  later 
a  tall  figure  clad  wholly  in  spotless  white  stepped  forth  from 
behind  a  small  grove  of  palm  trees.  Heber  observed  on  the 
instant  that  he  was  almost  directly  before  his  father's  residence. 
He  continued  his  efforts  to  calm  his  steed  but  the  frightened 
animal  saw  something  uncanny  in  the  white  vision  and  settled 
back  upon  his  haunches,  trembling  in  every  limb.  Heber 
grasped  his  master's  battle-axe,  which  hung  in  its  accustomed 
place  upon  the  saddle,  raised  his  arm  aloft  and  in  another 
moment  would  have  hurled  the  weapon  at  the  mysterious  figure 
before  him ;  but  in  that  moment  he  saw  a  long  white  arm 
upraised  and  heard  a  familiar  voice  exclaim:  "Heber,  son  of 
Nehum,  it  is  Tirmar  whom  thou  wouldst  slay." 

The  young  man's  arm  dropped  to  his  side,  and  he  settled 
back  into  his  saddle. 

"Tell  me,"  continued  the  figure,  "what  business  brings  thee 
here  at  this  hour  of  night." 

"I  am  bound  on  an  errand  for  the  king,"  answered  Heber. 

"Traitor!"  exclaimed  the  figure.  "Thou,  a  Jew,  carrying 
messages  for  the  oppressor  of  thy  people." 

"I  do  it  at  my  master's  order,"  he  replied. 

"Thy  master,  indeed!  A  freeborn  Jew  of  princely  blood 
acknowledging  a  Babylonian  his  master!" 

"Reproach  me  not,  Tirmar.  Thou  knowest  I  bound  myself 
to  him  because  he  took  me  in  when  I  was  homeless  and  thou 
also  knowest  what  drove  me  from  my  father's  house."  '  - 

"Coward!"  she  exclaimed  sneeringly,  "blame  everything  upon 
a  woman,  of  course.  I  did  not  tell  thee  to  slay  the  man  and 
thou  knowest  it." 

"No  Tirmar,  but  thou  knowest  full  well  it  was  my  former 
love  for  thee  that  drove  me  to  it." 

"Former  love?"  she  cried,  her  fierce  sarcasm  breaking  down 
before  that  attack,  an  attack  no  woman  could  withstand. 

"Yea,  former  love!"  cried  the  youth  passionately.     "Thou 


42  RHESA 

knowest  Tirmar,  I  renounced  thee  and  I  have  long  since  put 
away  the  love  I  once  bore  thee." 

"Oh,  Heber,"  she  cried,  "I  little  expected  to  hear  such  words 
from  thee.  Thou,  for  whom  at  this  moment  I  would  lay  down 
my  life.  Yea,  Heber,  I  would  lay  down  upon  this  road  and 
let  thee  ride  over  me  with  thy  fiery  steed,  but  that  I  now  live 
for  Judah  and  not  for  myself." 

"For  Judah?"  he  asked. 

"For  my  people,"  she  continued. 

"Tell  me  thy  meaning." 

"I  will  and  thou  comest  down  from  thy  horse's  back." 

Heber  dismounted  and  approached  her.  At  that  moment 
two  men  came  suddenly  out  from  the  clump  of  palms  and 
before  the  astonished  youth  could  offer  resistance  his  arms  were 
tied  behind  his  back.  One  of  the  men  held  him  by  the  arm 
while  the  second  laid  hold  of  Saru's  bridle. 

"Tirmar,  thou  traitress,  thou  hast  ruined  me,"  cried  Heber. 

The  tall  Jewess  made  no  reply  but  led  the  way  through  the 
grove  and  through  a  field  of  waving  wheat  to  a  small  brick 
building  in  the  center  of  the  field.  The  horse  was  led  around 
to  the  rear  of  the  building  and  tied  to  a  dead  tree  while  Heber, 
still  bound,  was  conducted  to  the  door  of  the  house.  Tirmar 
gave  two  quick  and  three  slow  raps  upon  the  door  with  a  heavy 
stick  she  carried.  The  door  instantly  opened  a  trifle  and  a 
voice  inquired  in  a  whisper:  "Who  comes?" 

"Open  to  Tirmar,"  was  the  answer. 

The  door  was  opened  and  the  party  entered  the  building. 
The  apartment  in  which  they  stopped  was  entirely  dark  but 
Heber  judged  it  to  contain  several  persons,  from  the  faint 
rustle  of  garments  and  suppressed  breathing.  After  the  door 
had  been  closed  and  securely  fastened  someone  moved  across 
the  floor  and  in  a  moment  the  room  became  light.  Heber  gave 
a  quick  glance  about  the  room  and  discovered  a  considerable 
company  of  Jews,  many  of  them  known  to  him. 

"Whom  have  we  here?"  asked  an  old  man,  whose  position 
on  a  raised  dais  denoted  him  the  leader  of  the  company. 


HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  43 

"Heber,  the  son  of  Nehum,  whose  name  has  often  been  men- 
tioned in  our  gatherings,"  answered  Tirmar. 

"Heber,"  said  the  old  man,  "thou  art  a  Jew  of  noble  birth 
and  lineage  and  art  therefore  welcome  to  our  meeting.  We 
have  heard  of  thee,  however,  as  a  wayward  boy  forsaking  the 
religion  of  thine  own  people  and  bowing  down  to  the  images 
of  the  Babylonians. 

"Nay,  good  Josedek,"  Heber  answered,  "I  have  dressed  and 
acted  as  these  men  of  Babylon  but  I  am  a  worshiper  of 
Jehovah." 

"Thy  statement  brings  joy  to  our  heart,"  said  the  high 
priest.* 

"These  whom  thou  seest  gathered  together  this  night  are  men 
of  Judah,  wearied  of  their  long  captivity.  We  desire  again 
to  see  our  native  land  and  to  worship  in  the  temple  on  Mount 
Moriah.  We  must  meet  in  secret  as  spies  are  abroad.  At  a 
given  signal  we  are  to  rise  as  one  man,  throw  off  the  bondage 
of  Babylon  and  return  to  our  own  land.  The  time  to  strike 
is  the  present.  The  old  king  is  too  indolent,  the  boy  too  young, 
to  take  the  field  at  the  head  of  an  army.  We  have  informa- 
tion also  of  dissatisfaction  among  the  soldiery.  Now  is  the 
time. 

"One  thing  needful  is  lacking,  a  leader  skilled  in  arms  and 
familiar  with  the  tactics  of  our  enemies.  Thou,  O  Heber,  of 
all  the  Jews  in  Babylon,  art  most  familiar  with  such  matters. 
Long  have  we  talked  of  thee  and  it  seemeth  providential  my 
daughter  should  have  found  thee  on  this  night  when  we  hope 
to  complete  our  plans.  Now  therefore  Heber,  on  behalf  of 
this  company  I  offer  thee  the  leadership  of  thy  people.  Wilt 
thou  accept?" 

Heber  stood  silent  in  the  center  of  the  room,  regarding  the 
old  man's  features  fixedly.  His  arms  were  now  free  and  he 
stood  before  them,  tall  and  strong.  The  conspirators  gazed 

*  Josedek  was  the  son  of  the  high  priest  Seraiah  (who  was  slain  by 
the  king  of  Babylon  in  Riblah)  and  was  carried  to  Babylon  a  captive. 
— Josephus  10:13. 


44  RHESA 

upon  him  admiringly;  all  listened  expectantly  for  his  answer. 
Moments  sped  by  and  still  he  stood  speechless,  absently  staring 
ahead  of  him.  Finally  he  raised  his  eyes  and  made  answer. 

"O  noble  Josedek,  and  brethren  of  Judah.  I  am  unable 
to  answer  so  great  a  question  on  the  moment.  I  must  have 
time  to  consider  well  so  important  a  step,"  he  said.  "I " 

Heber's  reply  was  interrupted  by  a  loud  knock  on  the  out- 
side door.  One  of  the  company  placed  an  inverted  jar  over 
the  lamp  and  the  room  was  again  dark.  Another  tiptoed  to 
the  door  and  opened  it  slightly. 

"Who  comes  here?"  he  asked. 

"I  would  speak  with  one  Josedek  whom  I  am  told  resides 
here,"  answered  a  deep  bass  voice. 

"Conduct  him  hither,"  commanded  the  high  priest. 

The  man  who  had  opened  the  door  took  the  stranger  by  the 
arm  and  led  him  into  the  darkened  room. 

"Thou  desirest  to  speak  with  me?"  questioned  Josedek. 

"I  desire  to  speak  with  one  Josedek,"  repeated  the  newcomer. 

"I  am  that  man,"  replied  the  high  priest. 

"I  have  a  pass  that  will  make  me  known  unto  thee,"  said 
the  stranger. 

Josedek  arose,  stepped  down  from  the  dais  and  approached 
the  man's  side.  The  latter  whispered  a  few  words  in  the 
high  priest's  ear.  Josedek  returned  to  his  station  and  one  of 
the  company  removed  the  jar  that  obscured  the  light.  The 
assembled  company  now  beheld  a  short,  stocky  man  dressed  as 
a  Hebrew  merchant.  Heber  noted  with  surprise  the  well-known 
features  of  Rastagus  the  Mede. 

"My  friend,"  said  Josedek,  "thou  canst  now  state  thine  errand 
without  fear." 

"Know  then,  good  Josedek  and  men  of  Judah,"  began  the 
stranger,  "I  am  Rastagus,  a  Mede.  I  come  as  a  messenger 
from  Cyrus,  king  of  Anshan,  Media  and  Persia,  Conqueror 
of  the  World-  Listen  while  I  deliver  unto  thee  the  message 
from  the  great  king.  No  writing  do  I  carry.  Such  a  message 
as  mine  can  only  be  intrusted  to  the  human  mind  which  no 


HEBER'S  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  45 

man  can  read.  Some  thirty  nights  ago  the  king  lay  sleeping 
upon  his  royal  couch.  As  he  slept  he  dreamed  and  this  is 
what  the  gods  revealed  unto  him. 

"Behold,  as  his  eyes  were  closed  in  sleep  there  appeared  before 
them  a  wondrous  picture  such  as  never  man  painted.  The 
scene  was  one  of  desolation.  Vast  heaps  of  ruins  lay  scattered 
all  about.  Some  great  city  had  fallen.  In  the  foreground  lay 
the  ruins  of  a  magnificent  building,  the  like  of  which  is  not  to 
be  found  in  Media  or  Babylon.  Great  blocks  of  marble  lay 
scattered  all  about;  some  broken  into  pieces,  others  merely 
chipped  and  still  others  unbroken,  square  as  when  the  quarry- 
man  finished  his  work. 

"As  the  king  lay  gazing  upon  the  wonderful  scene  it  van- 
ished and  in  its  place  there  stood  a  great  city,  Babylon,  encom- 
passed by  its  mammoth  walls.  The  great  brazen  gates  were 
closed ;  but,  as  the  sleeping  king  gazed  upon  them,  they  slowly 
opened  of  their  own  accord. 

"He  gazed  toward  Heaven  and  saw  hanging  over  the  city 
a  small  black  cloud.  Out  of  this  cloud  there  came  a  voice  as 
of  thunder.  Here  is  the  message  the  God  of  Heaven  gave 
unto  the  king: 

"  'Cyrus,  king  of  Media  and  Persia,  I  have  raised  thee  above 
all  men.  I  have  given  thee  mastery  over  the  nations  of  the 
world.  Not  for  thine  own  glory  have  I  done  this  but  for  the 
furtherance  of  mine  own  plans.  Listen  now  while  I  explain 
to  thee  the  meaning  of  the  pictures  thou  hast  seen.  The  fallen 
city  was  My  Holy  City,  Jerusalem,  and  the  great  building  thou 
sawest  in  ruins  was  My  temple,  My  dwelling-place.  I  raised 
up  the  Chaldeans,  that  bitter  and  hasty  nation,  who  marched 
through  My  holy  places  and  cast  them  down.  My  people, 
Israel,  I  delivered  into  their  hands  to  be  their  servants  and 
slaves.  Lx>,  I  hear  the  voice  of  My  people  calling  unto  Me 
out  of  a  strange  land.  They  are  repentant  and  beseech  Me 
to  send  them  back  to  their  own  land. 

"  'Now,  therefore,  Cyrus,  hear  Me.  Take  thou  thine  armies, 
thy  horsemen,  thy  spearmen,  thy  chariots  and  march  upon  that 


46  RHESA 

great  city,  even  Babylon.  I  will  give  the  city  into  thy  hands; 
without  a  blow  shalt  thou  take  it.  I  will  deliver  the  king  and 
the  people  into  thy  hands  to  be  thy  slaves. 

"  'Thou  shalt  restore  My  people  to  their  homes.  Thou 
shalt  send  with  them  soldiers  to  protect  them  upon  the  march. 
Thou  shalt  give  them  tools,  trowels  and  bars  and  hammers 
shalt  thou  give  them;  that  My  city  and  My  temple  may  be 
rebuilt.  The  gold  and  silver  vessels  of  My  house  which  Nebu- 
chadnezzar the  king  carried  away  thou  shalt  return  unto  My 
people.  Thou  hast  heard  the  message:  Obey!' 

"Since  that  night  the  king  has  been  meditating  upon  the 
message  and  when  thy  messenger  arrived  a  few  days  later  he 
hailed  him  as  one  sent  from  Heaven.  This  answer  King  Cyrus 
sends  unto  thee.  He  cannot  come  this  year.  Before  his  armies 
could  get  here  winter  would  be  upon  us;  but  when  the  spring 
comes  watch  thou  for  him  and  his  mighty  army." 

"Thine  answer  is  received,"  said  Josedek  as  the  envoy  fin- 
ished speaking. 

"The  night  is  now  far  spent,  brethren,"  he  continued.  "De- 
part to  thy  homes  and  meet  again  tonight  at  the  usual  hour. 
Thou,  noble  Rastagus,  I  beg  to  be  my  guest  for  the  remainder 
of  thy  stay  here." 

One  by  one  the  company  left  the  room,  Heber  among  the 
first.  The  young  man's  mind  was  troubled  as  he  thought  of 
the  king's  undelivered  message.  The  first  streak  of  dawn  was 
visible  in  the  eastern  sky  as  he  emerged  from  the  wheatfield 
leading  Saru  by  the  bridle. 

The  sun  was  two  hours  high  when  he  galloped  through  the 
gateway  of  the  palace  at  Borsippa  and  a  moment  later  handed 
the  tablet  to  Belibus.  The  lieutenant  read  the  message  and 
then,  fixing  his  gaze  upon  Heber's  face,  he  said  sternly : 

"This  message  is  dated  the  eighth  day  of  Tammuz.  Today 
is  the  ninth.  Hast  thou  been  since  before  midnight  in  covering 
so  short  a  distance  and  mounted  upon  the  fleetest  horse  in 
Babylon?" 


HEBER'S  DECISION  47 

The  young  Jew  hung  his  head  as  he  answered:  "I  was  de- 
tained upon  the  road." 

"This  must  be  inquired  into,"  said  Belibus.  "Soldiers,  hold 
this  man." 


CHAPTER  V 
HEBER'S  DECISION 

Nabomuran  was  astir  early  the  following  morning,  the  ninth 
day  of  Tammuz.  But  one  day  intervened  before  the  corona 
tion  day  of  Belshaz-zar  and  the  soldier  was  to  be  marshal  of  the 
vast  military  pageant  that  would  accompany  the  youthful  prince 
from  the  palace  to  the  temple.  There  was  much  to  demand  his 
attention  during  this  day  and  an  early  start  was  essential  to  the 
success  of  his  many  duties. 

Notwithstanding  his  early  start,  the  wine  shops  in  the  market 
place  were  already  doing  a  thriving  business.  Before  one  of 
the  most  pretentious  shops,  kept  by  an  old  Jew  named  Makeil, 
a  small  group  of  gay  youths  were  standing,  idly  gossiping  and 
discussing  such  persons  passing  the  shop  as  were  known  to  them. 

"Ha,"  said  one,  Belesis  by  name,  "who  is  this  I  see  coming? 
Methinks  the  form  is  that  of  Nabomuran  the  soldier." 

The  eyes  of  the  group  turned  upon  the  officer  in  a  concen- 
trated stare,  impertinent  but  not  devoid  of  friendliness. 

"Thou  art  right,"  said  a  second. 

"Where  has  he  been  these  many  months?"  asked  the  third 
member  of  the  group.  "To  Judea,  the  land  of  the  Hebrews. 
The  king  thinking  the  sight  of  so  splendid  a  body  of  troops 
as  the  Winged  Lions  might  have  a  wholesome  effect  upon  the 
people  remaining  in  that  country,  sent  them  thither.  They 
have  been  away  now  something  over  five  months,"  answered 
another  of  the  group,  Iddin,  son  of  the  rab  mag  Vulmaran. 

"We  must  give  our  old  friend  a  royal  welcome,"  said  the 
last  member  of  the  group. 


48  RHESA 

By  this  time  Nabomuran's  chariot  was  directly  in  front  of  the 
wine  shop.  Iddin  hailed  him  and  the  soldier  ordered  his  driver 
to  stop. 

"Come,  Sir  soldier,"  said  Iddin,  "allow  us  to  welcome  thee 
back  to  Babylon  with  a  friendly  cup." 

"One  cup  only  must  it  be  then,  Iddin.  I  have  much  on  my 
mind  this  morning.  Thou  knowest  I  have  a  part  to  play  to- 
morrow." 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Iddin,  "tomorrow  we  shall  have  two  kings. 
When  Sheshbazzar  appears  to  claim  the  throne  we  shall  have 
three." 

The  other  young  men  now  stepped  forward. 

"Friend  Nabomuran,  we  are  pleased  to  see  thee  among  us 
once  more.  Thine  absence  has  seemed  long  to  thy  friends," 
said  Belesis  as  if  speaking  for  all. 

"Come  now  for  the  one  cup,"  said  Iddin,  after  the  others 
had  greeted  the  soldier  in  turn. 

The  company  passed  into  the  wine  shop  and  the  old  Jew 
hastened  to  place  before  them  a  flagon  of  wine  and  six  silver 
goblets.  Iddin  arose,  cup  in  hand  and  offered  a  pledge. 

"To  Bel,  our  master;  to  Nabonidos,  our  king;  and  to  Nabo- 
muran, our  captain ;  Babylon's  great  trio." 

All  present  drank  the  toast  with  gusto.  Nabomuran,  con- 
trary to  his  remark  concerning  one  cup,  ordered  a  second  round 
and  rising  as  Iddin  had,  offered  a  pledge  in  return. 

"To  Babylon,  our  mistress;  to  Nitocris,  our  queen,  and  to 
all  our  black-eyed  maidens." 

The  cups  emptied,  he  handed  the  old  Jew  a  bar  of  silver  in 
payment,  bade  the  young  idlers  farewell  and  reentered  his 
chariot. 

The  gates  of  the  palace  were  wide  open  at  this  hour  and 
the  chariot  rolled  through,  straight  to  the  main  entrance.  A 
servant  at  the  porch  received  the  captain's  name  and  carried  it 
to  the  king.  Word  was  quickly  returned  bidding  him  enter  at 
once.  He  found  the  king  alone  and  pacing  up  and  down  the 


HEBER'S  DECISION  49 

room  in  great  impatience.  As  soon  as  Nabomuran  entered  the 
monarch  turned  to  him  in  anger. 

"I  wonder  sir,  at  thy  venturing  into  our  presence  this  morn- 
ing after  having  failed  to  carry  out  our  orders,"  cried  the  king. 

"What  orders  have  I  failed  to  carry  out?"  asked  the  soldier, 
astonished  at  his  sovereign's  ire. 

"Where  are  the  Winged  Lions?" 

"Safe  in  the  old  palace  by  this  time." 

"Hast  thou  been  there  to  see?" 

"Nay  sir,  I  came  directly  here." 

"Know  then,  Nabomuran,  they  have  not  arrived.  There  is 
treachery  somewhere.  I  am  the  unhappiest  of  kings.  I  have 
not  a  man  upon  whom  I  can  lean,  upon  whom  I  can  depend 
to  carry  out  my  orders." 

"Some  harm  must  have  befallen  my  messenger,  sir,"  said 
the  soldier,  genuinely  worried  for  Heber's  safety. 

"Whom  sentest  thou?" 

"My  Jewish  servant,  Heber,"  was  the  reply. 

"A  Jew!"  cried  the  monarch  angrily,  "thou  eritrustedst  a  mes- 
sage of  thy  king's  to  a  Jewish  servant?  I  gave  thee  credit  for 
better  judgment,  Nabomuran." 

"The  young  man  has  always  proven  trustworthy  before,  sir, 
and  I  sent  him  having  full  confidence  in  his  devotion." 

"Perhaps  I  blamed  thee  wrongfully,  but  I  am  worried  this 
morning.  This  Sheshbazzar  matter  has  arisen  to  vex  me  and 
now  come  rumors  of  dissatisfaction  among  the  soldiers.  If  my 
army  desert  me  for  this  lost  prince  I  am  ruined.  Nabomuran 
why  am  I  hated  by  the  people?" 

"I  know  not,  sir,"  replied  the  soldier. 

"A  courtier  like  Vulmaran  would  have  told  me  I  was  not 
hated  but  loved;  however,  Nabomuran  I  admire  thy  truthful- 
ness. Even  if  thou  hadst  given  me  a  courtier's  answer  I  would 
yet  have  known  the  truth.  Tell  me,  how  can  I  gain  the  love  of 
my  people?"  The  king  was  plainly  distressed. 

"That,  sir,  is  a  question  I  am  unable  to  answer."  Nabo- 
muran might  have  suggested  some  ways  in  which  the  king  could 


50  RHESA 

relieve  the  burdens  of  his  subjects,  but  he  dared  not  trust  the 
present  mood  too  far. 

"They  misunderstand  me,"  continued  the  king.  "I  strive  to 
please  them  but  my  every  effort  is  returned  to  me  charged  with 
hate.  This  farce  we  enact  tomorrow  is  but  to  win  the  regard 
of  the  masses.  I  realize  as  well  as  thou,  Nabomuran,  how  poor 
a  king  my  son  will  make.  He  is  my  son  and  I  love  him  as  a 
father  should,  but  I  would  the  gods  had  endowed  him  with 
some  of  the  qualities  thou  dost  possess." 

Nabomuran  was  silent,  not  knowing  how  to  converse  with 
the  king  in  his  present  mood. 

"I  sometimes  wish  this  Sheshbazzar  would  appear  and  claim 
my  throne.  I  should  then  have  something  to  live  for;  some 
object  to  attain.  In  seeking  to  bring  about  his  defeat  I  might 
forget  my  personal  unhappiness.  Still  there  would  be  the  risk 
of  his  being  successful  and  unhappy  king  though  I  am,  I  yet 
desire  to  retain  my  throne." 

"Is  there  not  a  likelihood  of  there  being  plenty  of  action  in 
the  near  future?  I  am  told  we  may  expect  a  conflict  with 
the  Persians  at  any  time.  They  are  reputed  to  be  wonderful 
soldiers  and  Cyrus  is  called  a  great  general.  I  fear  we  will 
be  hard  pushed  to  defeat  them,"  ventured  the  soldier. 

"They  may  be.  all  popular  rumor  makes  them;  but  they 
cannot  scale  nor  breach  our  walls.  My  ten  years  of  work, 
building  walls  and  digging  canals  is  now  at  an  end  and  they 
can  come  when  they  like.  I  allow  myself  no  worry  on  account 
of  the  Persians.  Enough  of  this,  however.  Forget  my  weak- 
ness, Nabomuran,  but  at  times  it  eases  my  feelings  to  reveal 
them  to  someone  I  can  trust.  Go  now  and  find  thy  men.  Set 
them  to  their  task  of  patrolling  the  streets  as  soon  as  they 
arrive." 

An  hour  later  Nabomuran  reentered  the  king's  presence  and 
informed  the  monarch  of  his  command's  safe  arrival.  He  had 
not  questioned  Heber  but  promised  the  king  he  would  do  so 
at  once.  Nabonidos  then  gave  him  some  information  (brought 
in  by  spies  during  the  soldier's  absence)  concerning  Heber's  de- 


HEBER'S  DECISION  51 

lay,  and  with  this  hint  Nabomuran  felt  himself  able  to  lecture 
Heber  intelligently. 

After  receiving  instructions  on  the  formation  of  the  great 
parade  of  the  morrow,  he  left  the  king's  palace  and  was  driven 
directly  to  the  older  building  upon  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river  now  his  headquarters. 

He  passed  hurriedly  through  the  halls  of  the  old  palace, 
going  directly  to  the  large  central  room  he  always  used  as  his 
office  when  in  the  city.  As  soon  as  he  was  seated  a  servant 
was  sent  to  find  Belibus.  The  lieutenant  came  presently  and 
seated  himself  near  his  superior. 

"About  this  delay  in  reaching  here  this  morning,  Belibus.  At 
what  time  did  Heber  reach  Borsippa?" 

"The  sun  was  more  than  two  hours  high,"  replied  Belibus. 

"And  Heber  left  my  father's  house  nearly  an  hour  before 
midnight.  Did  he  offer  any  explanation?" 

"None,  sir." 

"Can    it   be    that    Heber   purposely    delayed    delivering   my 


message 


"I  questioned  him  sir,  but  received  no  answer  save  that  he 
had  been  delayed  on  the  road.  A  visit  to  his  lady  may  have 
been  the  cause.  The  black  eyes  of  the  Jewish  maidens  are 
enough  to  hinder  the  most  trusty  messenger  in  the  king's  ser- 
vice," said  Belibus. 

Nabomuran  smiled,  but  did  not  contradict  his  lieutenant's 
assertion.  Had  not  one  pair  of  black  eyes  burned  themselves 
into  his  very  soul? 

"I  cannot  allow  this  incident  to  pass  without  reprimanding 
Heber.  Had  the  king's  fears  been  well  grounded  disaster  might 
have  followed  this  neglect.  Send  the  young  man  hither,  Belibus, 
and  post  a  guard  at  the  door  that  we  may  not  be  interrupted," 
he  said. 

A  few  moments  later  the  young  Jew  entered  the  room.  With 
bowed  head  and  sullen  air  he  approached  his  master,  his  whole 
appearance  that  of  a  schoolboy  going  to  receive  his  birching. 
Nabomuran  arose  and  stood  waiting  for  the  servant,  who  was 


52  RHESA 

also  his  friend,  to  reach  him.  The  commander's  face  was  stern, 
yet  not  hard.  More  of  sadness  than  of  anger  was  in  his  mind. 
The  words  he  was  about  to  speak  were  dictated  by  his  sense  of 
duty  and  came  not  from  the  heart. 

"Heber,"  he  began  in  a  stern  low  voice,  "I  have  loved  thee  as 
a  brother.  I  have  bestowed  upon  thee  rll  the  benefits  within 
my  power.  I  have  trusted  thee  with  mine  own  secrets.  Nothing 
in  my  life  has  been  hidden  from  thee.  Thou  art  the  only  man 
in  the  world  who  has  ever  been  my  confidant.  Yet  Heber, 
what  return  hast  thou  made  unto  me?  The  first  important 
work  I  have  entrusted  unto  thee  thou  hast  performed  carelessly ; 
I  will  not  say  treacherously,  though  the  king  so  considers  it.  By 
thy  act  thou  hast  nearly  destroyed  my  prestige  with  my  king.  I 
cannot  let  this  pass  unnoticed,  Heber.  I  have  orders  to  turn 
thee  over  to  the  king  to  be  tried  under  serious  charges,  but  for 
reasons  unknown  to  thee  I  am  going  to  risk  the  king's  disfavor. 
Before  I  settle  this  matter,  Heber,  tell  me :  Canst  thou  offer  an 
excuse  for  thy  conduct  ?" 

Heber  was  silent,  his  head  bowed.  What  could  he  say?  No 
excuse  presented  itself  to  his  mind.  Besides  he  had  always  been 
truthful  and  could  not  now  change  the  principles  of  a  lifetime; 
but  he  could  not  tell  the  truth. 

"Master,"  he  said  finally,  "I  can  tell  thee  nothing." 
"Ah,  Heber,"  said  Nabomuran  sadly,  "I  fear  I  have  been 
disappointed  in  thee." 

"Oh  my  master!"  cried  Heber,  "if  thou  only  knew!" 
"Heber,  I  do  know.  Last  night,  while  carrying  a  message 
for  the  king,  thou  wast  stopped  by  a  woman  and  conducted  to 
the  house  of  one  Josedek  in  the  center  of  a  wheatfield.  What 
took  place  there  my  informant  knows  not,  but  it  was  nearly 
daybreak  when  at  last  thou  started  to  do  the  king's  errand. 
Heber,  I  can  forgive  thee,  but  the  king  never  will.  His  spies 
saw  thee  last  night  and  he  it  was  communicated  this  story  to  me. 
My  influence  with  Nabonidos  is  great,  but  I  fear  for  thy  safety. 
Go,  therefore,  and  seek  a  home  among  thy  people  to  the  south 


A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE  53 

and  there  remain  until  the  king's  anger  shall  have  abated. 
Remember,  Heber;  stay  not  in  Babylon.  Now  go,  and  may 
thy  God  go  with  thee." 

With  mingled  feelings  of  anger  and  humiliation,  the  young 
Jew  left  his  master's  presence.  He  was  angry  with  Nabomuran 
for  his  words  of  reproof,  and  humiliated  that  Nabonidos  had 
received  news  of  the  conspiracy  he  was  asked  to  lead,  though  in 
truth  the  monarch  knew  next  to  nothing.  Both  Nabonidos  and 
Nabomuran  believed  Heber  to  have  been  engaged  in  an  amatory 
adventure.  At  the  moment  Heber  left  the  room,  the  decision 
to  cast  in  his  lot  with  his  rebellious  countrymen  was  made. 


CHAPTER  VI 
A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE 

The  remainder  of  the  day  passed  quickly  to  Nabomuran.  He 
spent  the  time  at  his  headquarters  and  was  busy  every  moment. 
One  by  one  the  leaders  of  the  arriving  bands  of  soldiery  reported 
to  him,  were  assigned  to  their  camping  places  and  received  in- 
structions as  to  the  part  they  were  to  take  in  the  morrow's 
pageant.  Late  in  the  afternoon  he  found  a  few  moments  of 
leisure  and  retired  to  an  inner  apartment,  opening  off  from  his 
official  room,  to  obtain  a  short  rest.  Earlier  in  the  day  he  had 
sent  servants  to  his  home  for  such  clothing  and  other  baggage 
as  he  would  need  during  his  stay  in  the  old  palace,  for  he  had 
decided  to  make  his  home  with  his  men  as  long  as  the  king 
feared  danger. 

Shortly  after  he  lay  down  a  servant  called  him,  saying  that  a 
messenger  awaited  in  the  outer  room  to  hand  him  a  communica- 
tion. The  soldier  arose  hastily,  threw  a  coat  over  his  shoulders 
and  went  out  into  the  large  room.  A  Jew  was  the  messenger, 
and  this  is  the  message  he  bore : 


54  RHESA 

Nehum,  to  Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard: 

Greeting : — 

May  the  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways. 
At  the  house  of  thy  servant  this  night,  a  few  men  of  Judah 
are  to  be  gathered.  I  should  feel  myself  greatly  honored  if 
thou  couldst  add  to  our  meeting  by  thy  presence. 

Nehum. 

Below  was  added  another  message,  evidently  written  by  the 
same  hand. 

Accept  my  father's  invitation.   I  wish  to  speak  with  thee. 

Or  ma. 

"Inform  thy  master  he  may  expect  me.  Convey  to  him  my 
thanks  for  his  kind  invitation,"  said  Nabomuran. 

The  servant  bowed  and  left  the  apartment.  After  his  de- 
parture, Nabomuran  returned  to  his  private  room  and  again  lay 
down  upon  the  couch.  He  made  no  attempt  to  find  sleep  but 
lay  quietly  upon  his  back,  his  arms  crossed  above  his  head  and 
his  brain  active. 

As  he  lay  thus,  thoughts  of  the  Jewess  came  into  his  mind. 
Indeed  they  had  been  there  continually  since  the  two  days  passed 
in  her  presence,  but  as  long  as  the  king's  business  required  his 
attention,  he  had  kept  them  from  diverting  his  mind  from  the 
work  in  hand.  Now  that  he  was  for  the  moment  free  from 
duty,  he  lay  back  in  ease  and  allowed  blissful  thoughts  to  roam 
at  will  through  the  fair  gardens  of  his  mind.  If  he  shut  his 
eyes  for  a  moment,  the  white  clad  figure  of  Orma  flitted  before 
them;  when  his  eyes  were  opened  she  was  still  present.  He 
allowed  his  imagination  full  play,  and  it  afforded  him  pleasure 
to  dream  of  the  only  woman  who  had  ever  occupied  his  thoughts. 
Up  to  this  moment  he  had  not  realized  the  place  the  dark-eyed 
Jewess  had  made  for  herself  in  his  heart  and  mind. 

Bred  in  a  womanless  home,  the  very  name  of  his  mother  un- 
known to  him;  his  early  youth  and  manhood  spent  amid  the 


A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE  55 

stern  conditions  of  army  life,  little  had  the  gentler  sex  entered 
into  his  thoughts.  Not  even  the  intrigues  of  his  brother  nobles 
and  officers  had  held  a  place  in  his  life.  From  boyhood  he  had 
lived  purely,  his  virtue  as  unspotted  as  that  of  the  Jewess  her- 
self. He  lived  a  shining  example  of  the  truth  that  a  man  can 
live  a  pure  life  without  thereby  being  the  less  a  man. 

From  the  moment  when  during  the  storm  on  the  desert,  the 
removal  of  the  cloak  from  about  Orma's  head,  had  revealed  to 
him  her  beautiful,  refined  features,  a  new  influence  began  to 
work  upon  the  lonely  man  of  war.  Heretofore  such  love  as 
his  heart  contained  was  bestowed  upon  his  father,  the  old  priest, 
upon  his  country  or  his  horse.  Indeed,  had  he  confessed  the 
truth,  it  was  probable  that  his  affection  for  Saru  would  have 
been  found  to  equal  the  others;  excepting  that  in  times  of  peril 
his  love  for  Babylon  was  fanned  into  a  brilliant  flame  which 
illuminated  his  whole  being.  Now  he  felt  himself  passing 
through  a  period  of  reconstruction.  His  every  sense  seemed 
expanding  and  he  realized  for  the  first  time  how  bare  his  life 
had  been,  despite  the  honors  received  at  the  hands  of  his  only 
mistress,  Babylon. 

Suddenly  he  became  conscious  of  the  flight  of  time.  He 
sprang  from  the  couch  and  hurried  out  into  the  large  apartment. 
Two  servants  were  lounging  in  the  room.  One  he  dispatched 
to  the  kitchen  after  his  supper;  the  other  he  sent  to  the  stables 
with  a  message  for  Susa  the  charioteer.  During  their  absence 
he  attired  himself  for  the  evening  visit.  Every  portion  of  his 
dress  of  a  military  aspect  was  removed,  and  in  its  place  he 
donned  a  simple,  long  white  robe  which  hung  from  his  shoulders 
and  reached  to  his  ankles,  a  style  of  garment  only  lately  come 
into  vogue  among  the  Babylonians.  His  only  indication  of 
rank  was  a  broad  silken  collar,  richly  embroidered,  worn  about 
his  neck  and  over  the  robe.  This  was  his  official  insignia  as 
commander  of  the  Winged  Lions,  an  organization  which  com- 
bined a  secret  brotherhood  with  a  military  order. 

The  light  supper  disposed  of,  the  soldier  entered  his  chariot 
which  awaited  him  at  the  palace  entrance.  From  the  old  palace 


56  RHESA 

to  the  residence  of  Nehum  was  a  pleasant  ride  this  cool  summer 
evening.  It  was  moreover  a  continual  ovation  for  the  soldier. 
His  return  to  the  city  had  been  so  recent  that  few  among  the 
masses  had  seen  him  or  even  heard  of  his  being  once  more  among 
them.  The  Borsipian  road,  inside  the  inner  wall,  was  crowded 
with  pedestrians,  many  of  them  soldiers  accompanied  by  their 
fair  ones — the  latter  rejoicing  over  their  lovers'  return — for 
from  all  parts  of  the  empire  bands  of  soldiery  had  come  to 
assist  in  the  celebration  of  Belshazzar's  coronation.  The  city 
over  everyone  was  given  up  to  pleasure,  save  only  the  stately 
and  dignified  troopers  of  the  Winged  Lions,  who  slowly  rode 
back  and  forth,  one  man  on  each  of  Babylon's  fifty  avenues. 

Susa,  at  a  signal  from  his  master,  stopped  at  the  residence 
of  Nehum.  "I  shall  be  within  for  some  time.  Drive  up  and 
down  the  road  until  I  wish  to  return.  Make  thy  trips  short 
and  do  not  lose  sight  of  this  house,"  said  Nabomuran  after  he 
had  alighted. 

Susa  bowed  in  silent  acknowledgment  of  his  orders.  Nabo- 
muran turned  and  walked  rapidly  up  the  pathway  leading  to 
Nehum's  residence.  He  knocked  loudly  upon  the  jamb  with 
his  cane  and  in  response  to  his  summons  Nehum  himself  came 
and  gave  his  guest  the  heartiest  of  welcomes.  The  old  man  led 
the  way  down  a  long  bare  hall  to  a  large  room  at  the  farther 
end.  Here  the  soldier  was  presented  to  a  dozen  aged  Jews, 
whose  white  locks  and  silvery  beards  betokened  them  patriarchs 
among  their  people.  With  hearty  sincerity,  coupled  with  quiet 
dignity,  the  soldier  greeted  each  man  as  his  name  was  called. 
At  the  name  of  the  last  member  of  the  little  assembly,  he  showed 
signs  of  surprise. 

"The  name  of  Daniel  is  not  unknown  to  me,"  he  said. 

"Nor  to  me,"  replied  the  venerable  prophet,  "is  Neboakhu's 
son  a  stranger." 

"Thou  knowest  my  father?" 

"Ay,  young  man,  thy  father  and  I  are  old  acquaintances. 
We  were  once  both  called  in  to  interpret  a  dream  for  the  old 
king  and  from  that  day  we  have  been  friends,  though  long 


A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE  57 

have  I  talked  with  him  concerning  the  falseness  of  his  worship," 
answered  Daniel. 

"Each  man,  noble  sir,  remains  true  to  the  faith  he  was  born 
in,"  said  the  young  man  with  some  dignity. 

"The  errors  of  birth,  my  son,  can  be  changed  by  every  man," 
said  the  prophet  smiling. 

Nabomuran  was  too  well  bred  to  introduce  an  argument  at 
such  a  time,  especially  upon  the  one  subject  which  cannot  be 
discussed  without  causing  feeling.  He  therefore  made  no  reply 
to  Daniel's  last  speech,  but  accepted  the  seat  Nehum  offered 
him.  He  soon  decided  in  his  own  mind  that  he  had  been  in- 
vited here  to  listen  to  speeches  setting  forth  the  glories  of  the 
Hebrew  religion;  at  least  the  conversation  hinged  upon  that 
topic.  If  such  had  been  Nehum's  object  he  gave  no  indication 
of  it,  as  he  took  little  part  in  the  conversation.  Soon  the  topic 
changed  to  that  of  the  expected  deliverance  of  the  Jews  from 
captivity,  and  the  prince  became  interested.  He  had  already 
discussed  this  subject  with  Heber  and  knew  of  the  hope  held 
by  the  Jews.  However,  he  was  surprised  when  Daniel  an- 
nounced that  it  was  foretold  that  their  deliverance  should  come 
through  a  king  named  Cyrus.  The  news  gave  pain  to  the  patri- 
otic soldier,  and  for  the  first  time  he  feared  that  calamity  which 
was  in  store  for  his  country. 

When  an  opportune  moment  came  he  arose  and  made  known 
his  intention  of  departing,  urging  as  his  excuse  his  arduous  duties 
of  the  morrow.  As  Nehum  conducted  him  through  the  hall 
he  found  words  to  frame  an  inquiry  that  had  been  upon  his 
tongue's  end  a  dozen  times. 

"May  I  not  have  the  pleasure  of  a  word  with  thy  daughter?" 
he  asked. 

The  old  man  looked  at  him  sharply  for  an  instant  before 
replying. 

"Thou  wilt  find  her  in  the  garden,  sir,"  he  said  finally. 

"Here,  Ruth,  show  this  good  man  to  thy  mistress's  bower," 
he  called  a  moment  later  as  he  saw  a  little  maid  glide  by  before 
the  house. 


58  RHESA 

At  the  doorway  Nehum  grasped  both  his  guest's  hands  and 
bade  him  an  effusive  farewell.  The  soldier  followed  the  serv- 
ing maid  and  the  old  man  returned  to  his  other  guests. 

The  maiden  led  Nabomuran  through  a  verdure-bordered  path 
to  a  small  rustic  building  in  the  center  of  the  garden  behind 
the  house.  She  pointed  out  the  bower  and  withdrew,  leaving 
the  soldier  standing  alone  in  the  brilliant  moonlight.  He  hesi- 
tated a  moment,  his  eyes  following  the  retreating  form  of  little 
Ruth,  vainly  hoping  that  she  would  return  and  free  him  from 
entering  yonder  bower  alone  and  unannounced.  He  watched 
until  she  had  disappeared  around  the  house,  and  then  realized 
that  he  stood  alone  with  the  woman  whom,  he  at  last  admitted 
to  himself,  he  loved.  He  was  irresolute,  hardly  daring  to  enter. 

At  length,  mustering  the  required  courage,  he  stepped  for- 
ward and  slowly  pushed  aside  the  luxuriant  vines  that  screened 
the  entrance  to  the  bower.  He  stepped  softly  in.  Upon  a 
couch  in  the  farther  corner,  made  of  palm  wood  and  plaited 
rushes,  reclined  Orma.  As  the  soldier  entered  she  arose  and 
advanced  to  meet  him.  Never  had  human  being  looked  so  beau- 
tiful to  him.  She  was  clad  in  a  simple  white  robe  that  com- 
pletely covered  her  form  from  throat  to  ankle,  in  sharp  contrast 
to  the  robes  of  Babylonian  women  which  hung  from  one  shoul- 
der, leaving  bare  the  arms  and  breast.  Her  glossy  black  hair 
hung  down  her  back,  a  wavy  cloud  that  enhanced  the  soft 
lines  of  her  beautiful  face. 

As  she  reached  him  she  held  out  one  tiny  hand  in  welcome. 
Almost  involuntarily  the  Babylonian  dropped  upon  one  knee 
and  raised  the  hand  to  his  lips.  She  hastily  withdrew  it  and 
he  arose,  imagining  he  had  given  offence,  but  when  she  spoke 
he  was  reassured. 

"Come,"  she  said  in  a  low  sweet  voice,  "be  seated.  I  have 
much  to  say  to  thee." 

She  returned  to  the  rush  divan,  and  he  drew  a  small  stool  up 
beside  her. 

"It  is  of  my  brother  I  would  speak,"  she  began.  "He  was 
here  this  morning  and  though  he  would  tell  me  nothing  I  mis- 


A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE  59 

trust  a  quarrel  has  taken  place  between  thee  and  him.  Tell 
me  sir,  I  beg  thee,  all  that  has  occurred.  I  must  know." 

Feeling  himself  under  obligation  to  tell  her,  the  soldier  obeyed 
and  related  in  a  few  words  the  occurrences  of  the  previous 
night,  closing  with  an  account  of  the  morning's  interview  with 
Heber. 

"Tirmar  again,"  said  the  girl  as  if  speaking  to  herself. 

"Thou  must  use  thine  influence  with  Heber  to  have  him 
leave  the  city  as  I  bade  him,"  said  Nabomuran. 

"Alas,  sir,"  she  answered,  "my  influence  will  have  little 
weight  against  Tirmar's." 

"Surely  Heber  could  not  refuse  his  sister's  request?" 

"That  depends  sir,  upon  Tirmar's  wishes.  Should  she  de- 
sire Heber  to  remain  here  nothing  I  can  say  will  move  him.  A 
sister's  influence  can  never  cope  with  a  man's  love  for  the  woman 
of  his  heart." 

"However,"  said  the  soldier,  "he  must  not  remain  here.  I 
ran  considerable  risk  in  not  turning  him  over  to  the  king  and 
I  cannot  be  still  further  endangered  by  his  remaining  here  to 
be  taken  by  the  king's  spies." 

Nothing  more  was  said  for  several  moments,  delicious  mo- 
ments for  Nabomuran  as  he  sat  looking  into  the  face  of  her 
he  loved.  As  he  sat  there  the  thought  came  into  his  mind  of 
how  short  a  time  he  had  known  her  but  he  did  not  marvel 
that  those  three  days  had  brought  love.  At  that  moment  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if  they  had  been  created  for  each  other,  had 
been  gradually  drawing  near  to  one  another  until  now  was 
the  supreme  time.  To  his  imagination  it  seemed  as  if  she  sat 
merely  waiting  for  him  to  speak.  In  that  moment  came  the 
decision  to  tell  her  of  his  love,  though  his  sober  sense  told  him 
it  was  too  soon  to  thus  declare  himself.  He  leaned  forward 
and,  looking  into  her  face,  poured  out  his  love.  Orma,  scarcely 
realizing  his  intentions,  allowed  him  to  finish,  but  in  a  moment 
she  regretted  it. 

"Fair  lady,"  he  began,  "I  am  a  soldier.  My  life  has  been 
spent  in  the  service  of  the  king.  When  a  small  child  I  was 


60  RHESA 

given  to  an  officer  to  be  trained  in  my  duties,  and  from  that 
day  I  have  lived  a  soldier's  life,  a  life  of  hardship  and  discipline. 
No  thoughts  of  love  or  poetry  have  ennobled  my  soul.  No 
woman  has  ever  held  a  place  in  my  life  to  soften  my  nature. 

"When  first  I  saw  thee  my  heart  underwent  a  change.  From 
the  first  moment  I  found  it  pleasant  to  be  near  thee.  In  some 
manner,  I  cannot  name  it,  thou  art  different  from  the  women 
of  mine  own  race.  What  no  one  of  them  could  have  done  thou 
hast.  Thou  hast  won  my  heart.  Take  a  soldier's  heart,  sweet 
woman,  and  in  its  place  thine  own  return.  Smile  on  me  and 
my  soul  is  exalted.  Wilt  thou  share  a  soldier's  life  and  make 
it  full  of  love  and  happiness? 

"I  have  rank  and  wealth.  Thou  shalt  be  one  of  the  foremost 
women  of  our  land.  Thy  house  shall  be  the  gathering  place 
of  mighty  men  and  beautiful  women.  The  city  shall  be  at 
thy  feet.  O,  turn  me  not  aside.  Accept  the  love  I  offer  and 
consent  to  share  my  hardships  and  my  days  of  plenty,  my  sor- 
rows and  my  joys,  my  trials  and  my  honors." 

The  countenance  of  the  Jewess  underwent  a  change  as  the 
soldier  poured  forth  his  vehement  words  of  love.  At  first  she 
gazed  upon  him  in  admiration.  She  glanced  at  his  pure  and 
noble  face,  his  erect  manly  form,  his  princely  mien  and  in  her 
heart  a  wave  of  love  seemed  rising  to  be  poured  forth  upon 
the  pleader;  but,  when  he  spoke  of  honors,  thoughts  of  racial 
differences  filled  her  mind.  The  Jewess  would  be  despised, 
even  though  a  noble's  wife,  and  he,  unable  to  lift  her  to  his 
position,  would  himself  be  dragged  down  to  hers  and  his  love 
prove  his  ruin.  Religion  asserted  itself.  She  thought  of  the 
man  before  her  as  a  worshiper  of  stone  images,  his  very  name 
the  monument  of  a  false  god.  The  fire  of  love,  slowly  fanned 
to  a  blaze  by  his  eloquent  appeal,  now  faded,  drenched  in  the 
icy  waters  her  mind  gathered  together.  Yet  she  acknowledged 
she  could  love  this  man  and  when  a  woman  acknowledges  that 
to  herself,  the  love  is  not  far  distant.  She  began  her  reply 
slowly  and  reluctantly. 

"Noble  sir,"  she  said,  "I  esteem  thee  above  all  thy  race;  I 


A  SOLDIER'S  LOVE  61 

could  love  thee  were  that  love  worthy  to  give ;  but,  think  sir,  I 
am  a  Jewess.  Were  I  to  wed  with  thee,  thy  honors  would 
quickly  tarnish.  Thy  people  would  never  honor  the  husband 
of  a  Jewess.  I  am  a  captive.  Were  not  my  father  a  prince 
of  Judah  I  should  be  a  slave  as  many  women  of  my  race  are. 
In  my  own  land  I  would  be  thy  equal  but  here  I  am  thought 
unworthy  to  speak  to  thee.  Think  sir,  of  this  and  ask  thy 
heart  if  it  can  make  the  sacrifice." 

She  said  nothing  of  religious  differences  for  fear  he  might 
resent  any  such  reference.  Nabomuran  sat  silent  for  several 
moments  after  she  had  finished  speaking.  Dimly  it  came  over 
him  that  these  fair  words  formed  a  refusal.  He  was  inclined 
to  speak  more  but  now  too  late  came  the  consciousness  that  he 
had  spoken  too  soon.  He  told  himself  he  should  have  waited 
a  more  respectable  length  of  time.  How  could  he  expect  to 
win  her  love  in  three  days?  In  a  moment,  therefore,  he  de- 
cided to  press  her  no  further  at  this  time. 

"I  accept  this  doom,  if  doom  it  is,"  he  said  quietly,  "but  re- 
member my  love  is  thine  forever  and  I  shall  live  in  hope  of 
someday  winning  thine  in  return." 

He  dropped  suddenly  upon  one  knee  and  grasping  her  hand 
imprinted  a  lingering  kiss  thereon,  before  she  could  withdraw 
it.  He  turned  to  go,  but  at  the  bower's  entrance  he  stopped 
and,  with  a  graceful  gesture,  said: 

"Farewell  my  love.  Whenever  thou  lettest  thyself  think  on 
me  let  thy  thoughts  be  kind  ones.  Again  farewell." 

"May  the  Almighty  go  with  thee!"  she  cried. 

He  left  her.  As  he  stepped  out  onto  the  Borsipian  road, 
he  felt  a  heavy  hand  upon  his  shoulder  and  in  another  instant 
a  ruffian  had  his  hand  upon  the  young  man's  throat.  His  arms 
were  pinioned,  his  ankles  bound,  and  before  he  could  cry  out 
or  offer  the  least  resistance,  he  was  thrown  upon  the  shoulders 
of  his  assailants  and  carried  away. 


6a  RHESA 

CHAPTER  VII 

THE  FIRST  BLOW  FOR  ZION 

With  slow  step  and  sullen  air,  Heber  left  the  presence  of 
his  master  at  the  close  of  their  interview.  Discordant  feelings, 
love  and  hate  arraigned,  did  battle  within  his  breast.  All  love 
for  the  noble  soldier  who  had  taken  him,  an  outcast,  procured 
his  pardon  from  the  king  and  raised  him  to  a  position  of  equality 
with  himself,  could  not  be  stifled  in  a  moment.  Even  at  this 
moment,  when  his  will  strove  to  overcome  his  love,  his  mind 
persisted  in  painting  before  his  eyes  scenes  whose  remembrance 
forbade  feelings  of  hate  to  arise.  Yet  with  a  steadfast  deter- 
mination to  cast  his  lot  with  his  rebellious  countrymen,  he  strove 
to  conquer  all  feelings  of  love  or  kindness  for  his  former  master. 

Gradually  by  forcing  his  mind  away  from  unwelcome  recol- 
lections of  past  kindnesses,  the  young  Jew  worked  himself  into 
the  desired  frame  of  mind.  By  the  time  he  passed  the  inner 
wall  and  found  himself  traversing  the  Borsipian  road  he  was 
sufficiently  angry  with  his  former  benefactor  to  enable  him  to 
take  up  arms  against  him  without  compunction.  Heber  real- 
ized only  too  well  that  his  acceptance  of  the  proffered  leader- 
ship involved  a  personal  warfare  against  the  kind  soldier. 

His  present  destination  was  his  father's  house.  He  thought 
of  this  as  a  safe  refuge  where  he  could  make  his  headquarters 
and  go  and  come  as  he  saw  fit  without  fear  of  detection.  Mis- 
taken youth,  thou  art  a  marked  man.  At  this  instant  a  young 
Greek,  the  most  trusted  assistant  of  Ulbar,  chief  spy  of  Babylon, 
was  sauntering  slowly  along  in  Heber's  wake.  It  was  not  until 
the  young  Jew  turned  into  the  path  leading  to  his  father's  abode 
that  the  Greek,  considering  his  walk  to  have  led  him  far  enough 
in  that  direction,  slipped  into  a  clump  of  bushes  to  await  Heber's 
further  action. 

Heber  passed  around  the  house,  through  the  garden,  re- 
splendent with  gay  blossoms  whose  fragrance  filled  the  air,  and 


THE  FIRST  BLOW  FOR  ZION  63 

made  his  way  straight  towards  the  bower  regarded  in  that 
household  as  Orma's  exclusive  retreat.  Here  he  found  the 
fairest  flower  in  all  the  garden,  his  sister.  She  sat  upon  a  low 
stool,  a  long  white  robe  in  her  lap.  By  her  side  sat  the  little 
handmaiden,  Ruth,  who  was  her  inseparable  companion.  She 
was  idle,  watching  the  play  of  her  mistress's  busy  needle. 

The  interview  between  brother  and  sister  proved  a  trying  one 
for  both.  Orma's  quick  perception  showed  her  that  something 
was  wrong  with  her  brother  and  she  tried  with  all  the  loving 
persuasion  of  a  sister  to  win  his  confidence,  but  without  avail. 
He  was  sullen  and  silent,  refusing  alike  to  answer  pointed  ques- 
tions and  veiled  requests.  At  length  as  a  last  resort,  Orma 
suddenly  asked: 

"Heber,  hast  thou  seen  Tirmar?" 

"I  have,"  he  answered   defiantly.  , 

"Oh,  my  brother!"  she  cried,  "for  my  sake  and  the  sake  of 
our  dear  father  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  wild  creature. 
Thou  knowest  how  nearly  she  ruined  thy  life.  O  Heber,  as 
thou  lovest  thy  sister  have  nothing  to  do  with  her." 

As  she  spoke  she  burst  into  tears.  Heber  arose  from  the 
couch  and  hastened  across  the  bower  to  his  sister's  side.  He 
took  her  in  his  arms  and  endeavored  to  pacify  her. 

"Come,  come,  little  sister.  Fear  nothing  for  me.  I  will  do 
nothing  to  cause  thee  pain." 

Orma  looked  up  smiling  through  her  tears  as  the  sun  breaks 
through  the  dripping  clouds  after  an  August  shower.  She 
placed  her  soft  cheek  against  her  brother's  bearded  one  and 
looking  into  his  face  she  murmured  softly:  "Thank  thee,  darling 
brother." 

He  held  her  in  his  arms  for  some  moments  and  then  gently 
put  her  from  him.  Silence  reigned  for  some  few  minutes  after- 
ward, Orma  finally  breaking  it. 

"How  fares  it  with  thy  master?"  she  asked. 

"Speak  not  to  me  of  him!"  exclaimed  Heber. 

"Why  brother,  what  has  happened  ?"  she  asked  in  a  surprised 
tone. 


64  RHESA 

"Ask  me  nothing.  He  and  I  have  parted ;  that  is  all.  Now 
farewell  sister,  I  must  leave  thee,"  he  said  hurriedly. 

Without  another  word  he  abruptly  left  her ;  sad  and  troubled. 
Throughout  the  remainder  of  the  day  her  mind  was  rilled  with 
anxiety  for  this  brother  whose  weakness  she  knew.  It  was  not 
until  afternoon  when  her  father  called  her  to  indite  a  message 
to  Nabomuran  that  she  decided  to  learn  the  truth  concerning 
Heber.  Without  reflection  or  thought  of  what  might  follow, 
she  appended  her  message  to  her  father's. 

Upon  reaching  the  road  Heber  turned  toward  the  outer  wall 
and  walked  slowly  away  in  that  direction.  The  young  Greek 
emerged  from  his  hiding  place,  looked  cautiously  round  him 
and  started  trailing  Heber.  When  Heber  reached  the  group  of 
palm  trees  he  stopped  and  looked  about  him.  The  Greek  slipped 
behind  a  tomb  in  time  to  avoid  detection.  Heber,  satisfied  that 
he  was  alone,  stepped  into  the  path  leading  through  the  wheat- 
field  and  walked  rapidly  toward  the  house  of  Josedek.  The  spy, 
assured  of  the  young  man's  destination,  deemed  further  shadow- 
ing unnecessary  and  strolled  back  toward  the  city. 

Tirmar  admitted  Heber,  but  instead  of  conducting  him  to 
the  room  used  by  the  conspirators,  she  led  the  way  upstairs  to 
a  small  apartment  in  the  second  story  of  the  building.  She 
closed  the  door  of  the  room  behind  them,  and  secured  it  with 
a  bronze  hasp.  Heber  was  astonished,  not  knowing  what  to 
expect.  Tirmar,  motioning  him  to  a  seat,  herself  remained 
standing  by  the  door,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  him.  Her  long  gown 
hung  from  her  left  shoulder  leaving  bare  her  rounded  arms,  her 
high  firm  shoulders  and  one  breast,  while  the  robe  fitted  her  so 
closely  the  whole  contour  of  her  form  could  be  imagined. 

Tirmar  was  a  strange  but  beautiful  creature;  the  spirit  of 
a  man  in  the  body  of  a  woman.  In  form  and  feature  she  was 
a  very  goddess;  a  most  beautiful  woman,  from  the  crown  of  her 
shapely  head  covered  with  its  long  black  tresses,  to  the  sole  of 
her  sandaled  feet.  The  beauty  of  Orma  was  like  the  silver 
radiance  of  the  moon,  which  charms  us  with  its  quiet  silvery 
light,  while  this  creature  was  like  the  dazzling  sun  of  noon- 


THE  FIRST  BLOW  FOR  ZION  65 

tide.  She  was  taller  than  the  average  man  of  her  race,  and  built 
in  true  proportions.  Her  shoulders  were  broad  though  of  beau- 
tiful contour,  and  her  hips  large.  In  both  figure  and  bearing  she 
was  an  Amazon. 

She  stood  silent  and  motionless,  her  full  dark  eyes  fixed  upon 
Heber's  face.  They  seemed  to  pierce  him  through  and  through. 
His  eyes  fell.  He  dare  not  look  up  and  even  when  his  gaze 
was  fastened  upon  the  floor  at  his  feet,  he  seemed  to  feel  their 
influence  and  behind  them  he  felt  the  iron  will  of  the  woman. 
Before  that  will  all  his  resolutions  and  promises  vanished;  he 
was  completely  within  her  power.  He  looked  up  nervously. 
She  smiled ;  an  entrancing,  voluptuous  smile. 

"Heber,"  she  said,  realizing  her  victory,  "art  thou  with  us. 
Art  thou  willing  to  become  thy  people's  leader;  to  rescue  thy 
kinsmen  from  bondage  and  lead  them  back  to  Mount  Zion  ?" 

She  paused  expectantly.  Heber  sat  with  downcast  eyes  and 
made  no  response. 

"Think,  Heber,"  she  continued.  "Think  of  the  possibilities 
before  thee.  Think  of  the  honor  and  glory  that  awaits  thee. 
Think,  Heber!  Thou  wilt  be  a  second  Moses  to  thy  people. 
In  their  gratitude  they  will  make  thee  king.  Think  of  that, 
Heber;  think  of  that.  Thou  a  king  and  Tirmar  thy  queen!" 

She  paused  again,  and  again  she  searched  him  with  those 
wonderful  eyes.  She  felt  herself  the  mistress  of  the  situation, 
but  she  was  still  unsatisfied.  He  must  be  completely  within 
her  power.  She  made  another  appeal,  this  time  humbling  her- 
self that  her  final  victory  should  be  the  greater.  She  threw 
herself  at  the  young  man's  feet  and  clasping  his  knees  with 
her  bare  shapely  arms,  looked  up  into  his  face.  Her  great 
round  eyes  were  filled  with  tears  and  her  voice  trembled ;  such 
was  the  intensity  of  her  passion. 

"Oh,  my  Heber!"  she  cried.  "Turn  not  from  me.  Spurn 
me  not.  I  think  only  of  thy  welfare  and  of  the  welfare  of 
our  people.  It  is  because  of  my  love  for  thee;  that  love  no 
language  can  describe.  I  plan  for  thee,  am  ambitious  for  thee. 
Oh,  think;  think  Heber!  Decide  at  once !  Say  thou  wilt  lead 


66  RHESA 

thy  people!  Think!  Heber  son  of  Nehum,  sitting  upon  the 
throne  of  King  David !  Look  not  so  sober,  my  loved  one.  Be 
joyful!  Smile!  Speak;  speak  to  me  Heber!" 

The  young  man  looked  into  the  face  of  the  beautiful  creature 
before  him.  He  was  changed.  Her  appeal  had  softened  his 
heart.  He  forgot  the  past,  and  thought  only  of  the  present. 
All  remembrance  of  his  former  master,  and  even  of  his  sister, 
was  obliterated.  He  loved  Tirmar!  He  would  do  as  she  de- 
sired him.  He  threw  his  arms  about  her  neck  and  implanted  a 
kiss,  his  first,  upon  her  high  white  forehead.  She  smiled  for 
joy,  a  smile  that  lighted  up  her  fine  face  and  seemingly  lifted 
her  to  a  higher  spiritual  level.  Heber  had  never  seen  a  being 
more  beautiful.  She  loved  him!  There  was  joy  in  the  thought. 

Movements  were  heard  in  the  room  below.  Tirmar  arose  and 
held  out  a  hand  to  Heber. 

"I  will  take  the  leadership,"  he  said. 

"Come  then,"  she  said,  her  face  radiant. 

Side  by  side  they  descended  the  brick  stairway  to  the  floor 
below  and  entered  the  apartment  used  as  a  meeting  place  by 
the  conspirators.  A  much  larger  company  than  the  one  of  the 
previous  evening  was  gathered  in  the  room.  Josedek  as  before 
was  the  leader  of  the  assemblage. 

As  the  pair  entered  all  eyes  turned  towards  them.  Josedek 
raised  his  huge  shaggy  eyebrows  inquiringly  at  his  daughter. 
Tirmar's  answer  was  a  slight  nod.  No  word  was  spoken,  but 
the  high  priest  knew  Heber  had  decided  as  they  wished. 

"Here  friends,"  he  called,  "is  the  man  chosen  to  lead  us  in 
our  struggle  for  liberty.  Here  is  the  man  who  will  lead  us  to 
victory  over  the  hosts  of  proud  Babylon ;  the  man  who  will  lead 
us  home  to  Zion." 

Heber  was  abashed  for  a  moment,  but  for  a  moment  only. 
He  raised  his  head  and  gazed  upon  his  compatriots.  A  sudden 
impulse  seized  the  Jews  as  they  looked  upon  their  handsome 
young  leader.  They  arose  and  thronged  about  him.  They 
would  have  shouted  but  for  the  fear  of  making  so  great  a  noise. 
One  by  one  they  greeted  him  and  resumed  their  seats.  When 


THE  FIRST  BLOW  FOR  ZION  67 

quiet  and  order  were  restored  the  assemblage  proceeded  at  once 
to  the  business  in  hand. 

"Now  we  have  a  leader,  all  that  remains  is  to  decide  when, 
and  where  to  strike  our  first  blow,"  said  Josedek. 

An  old  man  arose. 

"My  friends,"  he  began,  "go  slowly  in  this  matter.  Remem- 
ber the  power  we  attack  is  the  greatest  on  earth.  We  must 
fight  men  whose  whole  life  has  been  spent  in  war.  They  have 
the  best  weapons,  the  greatest  generals,  and  in  every  way  are 
our  superiors.  We  had  better  wait  until  our  friend  King  Cyrus 
arrives.  Then  we  will  throw  open  the  gates  and  bid  him  enter. 
Take  an  old  man's  advice,  my  friends;  be  cautious,  or  all  may 
be  lost." 

The  old  man  had  hardly  finished  speaking  when  a  fierce  look- 
ing Jew  named  Joram  arose  and  answered  him. 

"This  is  no  time  to  listen  to  old  men  and  children,"  he 
shouted.  "This  work  is  for  men  to  do.  Now  is  the  time  to 
strike.  I  trust  not  the  Persian.  By  accepting  his  help  we 
would  but  change  masters.  Under  our  brave  young  leader  we 
can  carry  all  before  us.  I  say  now  is  the  time  to  strike.  Come, 
who  will  go  with  us?  Zion  or  Death." 

His  last  words  were  caught  up  and  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  "Zion  or  Death"  became  their  slogan. 

Tirmar  arose. 

"Tomorrow,"  she  said,  "is  the  coronation  day.  At  night 
they  will  eat  and  drink  and  be  merry.  The  whole  city  will  be 
unarmed.  Everyone  from  the  king  down  will  be  drunken. 
Then  is  the  time  to  strike." 

Heber  was  the  next  to  speak. 

"There  are  reasons,"  he  said,  "why  I  would  advise  striking 
tonight.  In  the  first  place,  our  meetings  are  bound  to  be  dis- 
covered sooner  or  later  and  we  ought  to  strike  a  telling  blow 
before  the  king  receives  warning.  Tomorrow  the  people  will 
be  treated  to  a  great  sight,  an  imposing  array  of  Babylon's 
magnificence.  They  will  see  their  kings  surrounded  by  nobles 
and  soldiers.  They  will  shout  themselves  hoarse  and  swear 


68  RHESA 

eternal  fealty  to  the  present  government.  Tonight  they  hate 
their  king  for  his  oppressive  taxation.  Tomorrow  night  they 
will  love  him  for  giving  them  a  holiday.  If  we  strike  a  blow 
tonight  and  win  even  a  slight  success  the  people  will  rise  and 
help  us.  Therefore  am  I  in  favor  of  making  a  start  tonight." 

His  words  struck  a  popular  chord.  Hot-headed  as  they 
were,  most  of  them  were  impatient  to  begin  their  career  of 
glory.  It  needed  only  a  stalwart  leader  like  Heber  to  fan} 
the  flame  into  a  conflagration. 

Even  cautious  Josedek,  wise  with  the  wisdom  age  brings, 
saw  in  Heber's  words  much  to  be  commended.  He  knew  full 
well  the  fickleness  of  the  Babylonian  people;  how  soon  the 
memory  of  a  dead  monarch  faded  away  before  the  intense 
enthusiasm  called  forth  by  his  successor.  He  knew  how  im- 
pressionable they  were  and  how  the  morrow's  splendor  would 
affect  their  minds. 

"Our  brave  leader  is  right,"  said  Josedek,  breaking  a  short 
silence. 

"Zion  or  Death,  this  night  we  will  smite  the  lion.  We  will 
humble  the  pride  of  great  Babylon,"  shouted  Joram. 

The  signal  knocks  were  heard  upon  the  outside  door  and  a 
moment  later  a  tall  young  Jew  entered  the  room.  By  this  time 
it  was  evening  and  the  light  was  burning.  It  was  Addoni  their 
trusted  scout.  He  it  was  who  brought  them  information  con- 
cerning the  actions  of  their  prospective  enemies. 

"What  news,  friend?"  asked  Josedek. 

"The  king  has  some  suspicion  of  our  actions  and  will  doubt- 
less take  steps  to  thwart  us.  Tonight  but  few  troops  are  within 
the  walls ;  by  far  the  greater  portion  of  those  who  have  arrived 
are  encamped  without  the  walls.  If  we  are  to  strike  at  all,  we 
must  strike  at  once,  tonight.  Some  important  point  must  be 
taken." 

"Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard,  is  now  at  the  residence 
of  Nehum  on  the  Borsipian  road.  I  would  recommend,  my 
friends  that  he  be  taken  prisoner,  for  a  few  days  at  least,"  said 
the  scout. 


THE  FIRST  BLOW  FOR  ZION  69 

Josedek  glanced  at  Heber.     He  arose. 

"Come  friends,"  he  said,  "who  will  accompany  me  to  my 
father's  house  and  assist  in  the  capture  of  this  man?" 

"I  will,"  said  Tirmar. 

"And  I,"  said  Joram. 

"I"  and  "I"  said  several  more. 

Heber  chose  ten  persons,  including  Tirmar  and  Joram;  but 
before  they  left  upon  their  errand  the  matter  of  calling  to- 
gether their  forces  was  discussed.  At  length  it  was  decided 
that  Josedek  should  issue  a  proclamation  calling  upon  all  true 
Jews  to  take  up  arms  and  assemble  at  the  appointed  gathering 
place.  Several  copies  of  the  writing  were  to  be  made  and  each 
copy  given  to  a  trusty  messenger  who  should  go  from  man  to 
man  and  read  the  summons. 

As  soon  as  this  matter  was  settled  Heber  and  his  chosen  band 
set  out  upon  their  errand.  From  the  house  in  the  wheatfield 
to  the  residence  of  Nehum  was  a  short  walk.  The  party  hid 
themselves  in  the  shrubbery  before  the  house,  there  to  await 
the  soldier's  coming.  Heber  delegated  five  of  the  number  to 
watch  for  Nabomuran's  chariot  and  take  possession  of  it  when 
it  came  along.  Joram  the  fire-eater  was  appointed  to  command 
this  band.  Armed  with  clubs  and  spears,  they  passed  along 
the  side  of  the  great  thoroughfare,  keeping  well  in  the  shadow. 
A  trooper  appeared,  and  all  fell  flat  upon  their  faces  until  he 
had  passed.  They  then  resumed  their  journey. 

The  low  rumble  of  the  approaching  chariot  was  heard. 
Joram  waved  his  hand  as  a  signal  for  his  party  to  be  quiet.  He 
whispered  to  one  of  his  band,  who  darted  across  the  road,  gain- 
ing the  other  side  unseen.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  vehicle. 
Susa  held  the  reins  loosely  in  one  hand,  paying  little,  heed  to 
his  walking  horses.  Possibly  his  mind  was  upon  some  maiden 
far  away  among  his  native  mountains. 

Suddenly  he  felt  the  reins  jerk  in  his  hands.  He  turned 
quickly,  to  see  his  horses  thrown  back  upon  their  haunches. 
With  a  low  cry  of  fear  he  dropped  the  reins  and  sprang  over 
the  side  of  the  chariot,  alighting  squarely  upon  his  feet.  He 


70  RHESA 

had  hardly  touched  the  pavement  when  he  was  seized  and  se- 
curely bound  by  one  of  the  Jews.  To  cry  out  meant  death  so 
the  frightened  servant  submitted  in  silence. 

Meanwhile  Heber,  Tirmar  and  their  three  companions  re- 
mained hidden  beside  the  entrance  to  Nehum's  house,  awaiting 
the  coming  of  Nabomuran.  Soon  they  saw  him,  walking  slowly 
down  the  path,  his  attitude  one  of  great  preoccupation.  He 
passed  his  hidden  assailants  and  walked  straight  to  the  edge  of 
the  road.  He  stopped  and  looked  about  for  signs  of  his  chariot. 

The  Jews  darted  from  their  hiding  place.  There  was  a  brief 
struggle  and  then  all  was  over.  Nabomuran  bound  hand  and 
foot,  and  too  proud  to  cry  out,  was  carried  across  the  street  to 
the  group  of  palms.  Here  the  Jews  laid  him  on  the  ground 
while  they  awaited  the  coming  of  their  companions.  Three  of 
them  soon  appeared,  explaining  that  Joram  and  one  other  had 
driven  the  chariot  to  a  place  of  safety.  Nabomuran  was  thrown 
upon  the  shoulders  of  four  vigorous  young  Jews  and  the  little 
cavalcade  set  out  upon  their  return.  When  their  destination 
was  reached,  the  four  men  carried  their  burden  down  into  the 
basement  of  the  building,  and  placed  him  in  a  small  but  strong 
cell.  They  loosened  his  bonds  a  trifle,  just  enough  to  prevent 
discomfort.  Then  they  departed,  fastening  the  huge  timber 
door  behind  them,  and  leaving  him  alone  in  the  inky  darkness. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  CONFLICT 

Heber's  first  care  after  reaching  the  rendezvous  was  to  call 
a  consultation  of  the  leaders  to  formulate  plans  for  the  night's 
work.  After  relating  the  account  of  their  success  in  capturing 
Nabomuran,  he  called  up  Tirmar,  Joram  and  three  others. 
These  standing  in  a  semi-circle  about  the  dais  of  Josedek  heard 
from  their  leader's  lips  the  outline  of  his  plan. 

"Everything  depends  upon  our  blow  being  sudden  and  un- 


THE  CONFLICT  71 

expected.  If  an  alarm  is  given  and  all  the  soldiers  now  within 
the  city  come  to  oppose  us,  our  cause  is  lost  for  we  can  not  yet 
cope  against  such  numbers.  I  think  our  work  for  tonight 
would  best  be  the  capture  of  the  old  palace  upon  this  side  of 
the  river.  It  is  strong  and  large  and  can  withstand  a  siege  of 
long  duration.  It  overlooks  the  river  and  the  drawbridge,  and 
commands  the  paths  of  communication  between  the  two  sides 
of  the  river.  Once  within  our  possession,  it  will  become  a 
fortress  from  which  we  can  direct  our  future  actions.  With 
such  a  stronghold  in  our  possession  we  can  depend  upon  men 
flocking  to  our  standard  in  numbers.  Thus  after  a  short  time 
we  can  undertake  greater  achievements.  Piece  by  piece  the  city 
shall  become  ours  and  then  we  can  return  to  our  native  land." 

"What  shall  we  do  with  Babylon?  If  we  defeat  the  king 
we  will  be  masters  of  the  city  and  must  govern  it  some  way," 
asked  one  of  the  council. 

"There  is  living  somewhere  a  man  named  Sheshbazzar  who 
is  the  rightful  king  of  Babylon.  I  hope  his  cause  shall  be  joined 
to  ours  and  when  our  combined  forces  have  defeated  the  present 
king,  we  will  return  to  rule  Judea  and  leave  Babylon  to  Shesh- 
bazzar," answered  Heber.  Then  he  continued  the  outline  of 
his  plans. 

"As  is  known  to  all,"  he  said,  "there  are  but  three  points  at 
which  the  old  palace  can  be  attacked.  They  are  the  three 
stairways  leading  up  to  the  great  mound  upon  which  the  palace 
is  built.  One  of  these  stairways  faces  the  Borsipian  road,  the 
second  faces  the  Sippara  road  and  the  third  gives  upon  the  river 
bank.  I  propose  to  divide  our  forces  into  three  divisions,  one 
to  attack  each  stairway.  The  force  inside  the  palace  numbers 
fifty  men,  besides  the  servants.  I  propose  taking  three  hundred 
men,  one  hundred  in  each  column.  It  would  be  dangerous  to 
take  more,  as  we  could  never  get  through  the  inner  wall  with 
a  larger  force.  Then  we  will  be  six  to  one  and  the  Winged 
Lions  are  used  only  to  fighting  on  horseback,  never  to  my 
knowledge  having  defended  a  fortress  against  an  attacking  force. 


72  RHESA 

Their  leader  also  is  not  with  them,  a  fact  worth  an  hundred 
men  to  us." 

"Joram,"  he  continued,  "thou  art  a  boatman  and  shall  there- 
fore command  the  river  column. 

"Tirmar,"  he  asked,  "shalt  thou  go  with  us?" 

"Indeed  I  shall,"  she  answered. 

"Then  thou  shalt  command  the  division  attacking  the  north- 
ern stairway.  I  will  lead  the  third  column.  We  will  ap- 
proach the  palace  with  the  greatest  caution.  Have  thy  columns 
arranged  in  single  file  and  long  drawn  out.  Do  not  allow  any 
resemblance  of  an  attacking  force  to  exist  and  above  all,  do  not 
let  one  of  the  Winged  Lions  see  thee.  There  is  but  one  man 
on  a  street.  Do  not  therefore  venture  upon  a  street  or  across 
one  until  its  guarding  trooper  shall  have  passed  thee.  When  my 
horn  sounds  three  blasts  we  will  all  attack  at  once.  Attack 
suddenly  and  fiercely;  all  depends  upon  our  being  quick.  Dost 
thou  understand?" 

"Perfectly,"  answered  Tirmar  and  the  rest  nodded. 

Heber  now  sent  a  man  outside  to  learn  what  force  had  gath- 
ered in  the  wheatfield  in  answer  to  Josedek's  proclamation. 
The  emissary  returned  shortly  reporting  a  considerable  force 
in  waiting. 

"As  many  as  three  hundred  ?"  asked  Heoer. 

"Yea  and  thrice  three  hundred,"  answered  the  man. 

"It  is  well,"  said  the  leader.  "Are  we  ready  for  our  attempt, 
my  friends?" 

Tirmar  left  the  room,  returning  shortly  a  transformed  per- 
son. Her  long  flowing  hair  was  gathered  upon  her  head  and 
was  lost  to  sight  in  a  capacious  helmet  of  polished  bronze.  Her 
long  gown  had  given  place  to  a  short  tunic  that  barely  reached 
to  the  knees.  A  pair  of  leather  leggings  covered  her  nether 
limbs,  save  only  a  space  of  three  inches  that  intervened  between 
the  tops  of  the  leggings  and  the  fringe  of  the  tunic,  thus  leaving 
bare  the  knees.  A  broad  leather  belt  about  her  waist  supported 
a  long,  bone-handled  dagger.  The  customary  Babylonian 


THE  CONFLICT  73 

breastplate  hung  about  her  neck  and  in  her  hand  she  carried 
a  heavy,  shining  sword. 

"I  am  ready,"  she  said. 

"Then  we  will  start  at  once  and  may  God  grant  us  success," 
said  Heber. 

"Amen,"  responded  the  company. 

They  now  left  the  house  and  passed  around  to  the  rear  where, 
half  hidden  in  the  luxuriant  wheat,  were  the  forces  of  Judah. 
Heber  at  once  selected  three  hundred  men,  choosing  the  more 
stalwart  and  better  armed.  Dividing  this  band  into  three  com- 
panies, he  assigned  to  each  the  appointed  leader.  Then  in  a 
few  low  spoken  words  he  exhorted  them  to  caution  and  gave 
them  directions  as  to  their  march.  At  the  last  moment  Josedek 
came  out  and  in  a  few  whispered  sentences  invoked  Divine  bless- 
ing upon  their  endeavor. 


Two  officers  of  the  Winged  Lions  were  indulging  in  a  late 
stroll  upon  the  broad  platform  supporting  the  building  that 
was  now  used  as  a  barrack.  As  they  walked  slowly  toward 
the  edge  of  the  mound  looking  down  upon  the  river,  they  were 
conversing  in  low,  confidential  tones.  It  was  a  few  minutes 
past  midnight  and  the  change  of  troopers  had  just  been  made, 
fifty  men  coming  in  to  rest  and  fifty  going  out  to  patrol  the 
streets. 

"What  news  from  the  party  sent  out  in  answer  to  the  bugle 
call?"  asked  one,  our  old  acquaintance  Belibus,  who  had  just 
come  in  from  his  tour  of  duty. 

"They  returned  more  than  an  hour  ago,"  answered  his  com- 
panion, the  gay  trumpeter,  Nergalshazzar.  "The  alarm  was 
evidently  a  false  one.  A  rider  imagined  he  heard  the  sound 
of  combat  on  the  Borsipian  road  without  the  inner  wall  and 
sounded  his  trumpet,  but  no  signs  of  any  disturbance  could  be 
found.  Yet  I  fear  some  trouble  is  afoot.  Look  above.  The 
moon  and  stars  that  shone  so  clearly  earlier  in  the  night  are 
now  clouded,  as  if  some  deeds  were  to  be  done  they  wish  not  to 


74  RHESA 

see.     Our  captain  has  not  yet  returned  and  it  is  past  midnight. 
What  if  some  harm  has  befallen  him?" 

"I  have  no  fears  for  Nabomuran,"  answered  Belibus.  "He 
is  probably  worshiping  at  the  feet  of  yon  Jewess  we  rescued 
on  the  desert." 

"Aha,"  said  Nergalshazzar,  "so  the  wind  blows  in  that  direc- 
tion? Our  own  women  have  never  tempted  the  captain,  but 
thou  thinkest  the  Jewess  has  won  his  well-guarded  heart?" 

"Perhaps  not  as  bad  as  that,  but  it  was  evident  he  took  a 
liking  to  the  girl.     She  is  beautiful,  one  must  admit.     Still  I 
am  surprised  at  the  captain.     Why,  'tis  said  he  could  wed  roy- 
alty, were  his  eyes  only  open." 
"What?     Halista?" 

"So  the  ladies  of  the  court  have  thought." 
"Nay,  impossible,"  said  the  trumpeter,  who  had  his  own  de- 
signs upon  the  king's  beautiful  niece. 

"  'Tis  said  she  smiles  upon  our  captain,  but  he  seemeth  proof 
against  her  charms." 

"He  may  be  a  great  soldier,  and  indeed  he  is,  but  his  eyes 
are  poor  when  he  chooses  the  Jewess  before  the  king's  niece. 
However  he  leaves  to  others  the  opportunity  of  winning  her." 
"Nergalshazzar  for  instance?"  said  Belibus. 
"Why  not?     'Twere  better  far  she  should  wed  a  poor  but 
honorable  soldier  than  a  gay  rake  like  Iddin  the  rab  mag's  son, 
upon  whom  'tis  said  Nabonidos  would  bestow  her,"  replied  the 
trumpeter. 

"Thou  art  right.  Men  like  Iddin  are  unfit  even  to  gaze  upon 
such  a  woman  as  Halista." 

"Methinks,  Belibus,  thou  showest  considerable  warmth  in 
that  remark." 

"Yes,"  answered  Belibus,  "I  too  have  a  liking  for  the  fair 
princess." 

"I  suspected  as  much,  friend  Belibus.  It  will  then  be  a 
race  between  us  to  see  who  wins  her." 

"Thou  art  likely  to  be  the  winner.     I  am  of  too  poor  and 


THE  CONFLICT  75 

unknown  a  family  to  dare  even  to  look  upon  a  princess,"  said 
Belibus  sadly. 

"Nay,  nay,  try  it  Belibus.  Thy  position  is  an  honorable 
one.  Some  day  thou  wilt  be  commander  of  the  troop  and  the 
king's  trusty  captain.  Try  it.  Our  zeal  will  be  inspired  if 
there  is  rivalry  between  us." 

"Perhaps,"  was  the  answer,  but  the  lieutenant  shook  his  head 
sadly. 

"Hark!     What  is  that?"  exclaimed  the  trumpeter. 
They  listened. 

"It  is  nothing  but  a  boat  crossing  the  river.  Thou  art  un- 
duly nervous  tonight,  Nergalshazzar,"  said  Belibus. 

"I  may  be,  but  Belibus,  I  feel  a  strange  presentiment  of 
impending  trouble,"  was  the  answer. 

The  sound  of  paddles  was  distinctly  heard.  A  cry  sounded 
faintly.  Then  all  was  silent,  save  for  the  muffled  splashing  of 
the  paddles  in  the  river. 

"That  boat  is  not  crossing  the  river;  it  is  ascending  against 
the  current,"  said  the  trumpeter.  "Wait;  I  will  go  down  to 
the  landing  and  see  what  it  is." 

He  ran  down  the  broad  steps,  leaving  Belibus  standing  above. 
Nergalshazzar  hurried  along  the  brick  quay  until  he  came  to 
the  next  landing  below  the  palace.  Here  he  stepped  inside 
a  doorway  where  he  was  completely  hidden,  and  awaited  the 
coming  of  the  craft  whose  presence  on  the  river  at  this  hour 
had  made  him  suspicious.  The  steady  splash  of  the  paddles  as 
they  dipped  into  the  river  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Before  the 
boat  was  visible  other  paddles  were  heard.  The  trumpeter 
hugged  the  dark  wall  and  peered  anxiously  into  the  gloom.  At 
length  the  faint  form  of  an  approaching  boat  became  distin- 
guishable. One  after  another  the  outlines  of  the  figures  of 
those  in  the  boat  became  visible  until  the  astonished  soldier 
saw  before  him  ten  armed  men.  One,  apparently  the  leader, 
stood  in  the  prow  eagerly  scanning  the  landings  as  they  passed 
them. 

Nergalshazzar's  mind  was  filled  with  conflicting  thoughts. 


76  RHESA 

What  could  this  mean?  The  men  in  the  boat  he  judged  to  be 
Jews  and  what  business  had  a  company  of  armed  Jews  upon 
the  river  at  this  hour?  He  deemed  it  time  to  report  his  dis- 
covery; therefore  he  slowly  crept  from  his  hiding  place.  Keep- 
ing well  in  the  shadow  of  the  high  mound,  he  made  his  way 
back  to  the  palace  landing.  Belibus  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  awaiting  his  friend's  return.  The  trumpeter  ran  up  the 
steps  and  in  a  few  hurried  sentences  reported  what  he  had 
seen. 

"Let  us  remain  here  and  watch  them,"  said  Belibus. 

The  two  soldiers  remained  standing  beside  the  stairway  peer- 
ing out  over  the  low  rampart  that  encircled  the  mound.  The 
first  boat  was  now  below  them  and  even  in  the  darkness  they 
could  make  out  the  powerful  form  of  Joram  as  he  held  up  his 
right  arm.  The  paddlers  ceased  their  efforts;  the  helmsman 
gave  a  quick  turn  to  the  steering  oar,  and  the  prow  of  the 
boat  scraped  against  the  brick  landing.  Joram  sprang  out  and 
held  the  boat  firmly  against  the  wall. 

"They  are  landing  here,"  said  Belibus. 

"One  after  another  the  Jews  disembarked  and  formed  in 
line  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  The  second  boat  arrived;  its 
occupants  landed  and  formed  behind  their  comrades.  Then  the 
boat  was  pushed  down  stream  by  the  man  left  in  charge  to 
make  room  for  the  third.  Thus  boat  after  boat  came  up,  dis- 
charged its  living  cargo  and  dropped  down  to  the  next  lower 
landing  where  they  waited  in  case  a  retreat  should  be  necessary. 

"It  is  time  to  call  the  men,"  whispered  Belibus.  "Bid  them 
come  in  haste,  but  caution  ^hem  to  make  no  sound.  I  will 
remain  here  and  watch  the  movements  of  this  strange  company." 

Nergalshazzar  ran  across  the  platform  and  entered  the  palace. 
From  room  to  room  he  flew,  rousing  the  sleeping  soldiers  as 
he  went. 

"Be  silent,"  he  commanded  as  he  led  a  party  of  fifty  men 
toward  the  stairs. 

They  walked  slowly  and  noiselessly  across  the  platform  and 


THE  CONFLICT  77 

formed  a  solid  band  behind  their  lieutenant.  Nergalshazzar 
carried  two  battle-axes,  one  of  which  he  handed  to  Belibus. 

"Wait  until  they  reach  the  third  step  from  the  top.  Then 
charge  fiercely  but  without  a  shout,"  was  the  command  whis- 
pered through  the  lines. 

"We  are  undiscovered,"  whispered  Joram  after  his  com- 
mand had  landed  and  formed  in  ranks.  "We  will  march  nearly 
to  the  top  of  the  stairs  and  at  the  signal  from  our  leader's  horn 
we  will  rush  in  and  seize  this  side  of  the  palace  before  the 
soldiers  are  alarmed." 

They  marched  slowly  up  the  steps,  keeping  in  solid  forma- 
tion. Near  the  top  they  halted,  each  man  grasping  his  weapon 
firmly  and  only  awaiting  the  signal  to  rush  in.  A  moment  only 
they  stood  thus.  Then  it  seemed  as  if  an  avalanche  from  a 
mountain  side  had  been  hurled  upon  their  heads  as  the  solid 
line  of  armed  men  rushed  headlong  upon  them.  Down,  down, 
down,  went  the  Jews  before  the  fierce  onslaught  of  the  Winged 
Lions.  The  axes  of  the  two  leaders  swung  over  the  heads  of 
the  unfortunate  Hebrews  descending  now  and  then  upon  the 
head  of  some  luckless  wretch.  Cries  of  agony  came  from  the 
foot  of  the  stairway  where  those  in  the  rear  ranks  were  being 
trampled  upon  by  their  brethren  retreating  before  the  shining 
blades  of  the  Babylonian  battle-axes. 

The  spears  and  clubs  of  the  Jews  were  child's  playthings 
when  pitted  against  the  heavy  weapons  wielded  by  the  iron 
arms  of  the  muscular  young  troopers.  The  broad  steps  were 
slippery  with  Jewish  blood  as  down  toward  the  river  the  fierce 
soldiers  forced  their  unfortunate  enemies.  The  rear  ranks 
broke  and  fled,  leaving  many  of  their  comrades  behind  hope- 
lessly wounded  and  trampled  under  foot. 

"To  the  river,"  shouted  Joram,  who  fighting  like  a  tiger  was 
slowly  falling  back,  contesting  every  step  with  the  valorous 
Belibus.  The  words  were  his  last.  The  shining  blade  of  the 
Babylonian  officer  descended  upon  the  skull  of  the  fierce  Jew, 
cleaving  it  in  twain.  He  fell  dead  at  the  soldier's  feet. 

The  death  of  Joram  was  the  signal  for  a  wild  and  indescrib- 


78  RHESA 

able  panic.  A  frenzy  of  fear  seized  upon  the  survivors  and 
they  rushed,  fell  and  stumbled  down  the  steps  in  their  mad 
haste  to  reach  the  river.  In  they  plunged,  notwithstanding 
that  few  of  them  could  swim.  The  Winged  Lions  followed 
them  down  the  steps  and  on  to  the  landing.  In  the  excitement 
of  the  moment  reason  left  them;  their  fiery  Chaldean  blood 
surged  through  their  veins,  making  of  them  very  demons.  The 
luckless  Jews  were  slaughtered  like  sheep  in  a  pen.  No  cries 
of  mercy  were  heeded ;  the  commands  of  Belibus  availed  nothing, 
and  the  death  dealing  battle-axes  continued  in  their  bloody 
career. 

Belibus  and  Nergalshazzar,  at  the  risk  of  their  own  lives, 
ran  among  the  men  commanding,  imploring  them  to  cease  the 
useless  effusion  of  blood.  At  length  their  fury  abated  and  one 
by  one  they  picked  their  way  through  the  dead  and  wounded 
to  the  top  of  the  mound.  They  formed  in  line  that  the  officers 
might  ascertain  their  losses.  Mixed  in  among  the  dead  Jews 
were  the  bodies  of  two  troopers,  while  several  of  the  men  who 
lined  up  before  Belibus  had  ghastly  cuts. 

They  had  hardly  taken  their  places  in  line  when,  from  the 
southern  stairway,  sounded  three  trumpet  blasts.  A  moment 
later  a  servant  came  running  to  Belibus. 

"Quick,  sir!"  he  cried,  "we  are  attacked  at  the  other  stair- 
ways." 


CHAPTER  IX 


Belibus  hastily  divided  his  band  into  two  companies  and  sent 
one  to  the  northern  stairways  under  command  of  Nergalshazzar, 
while  he  led  the  other  to  the  southern.  The  soldiers  under 
Belibus  reached  the  head  of  the  southern  stairway  just  as  the 
Jews  led  by  Heber  gained  the  top.  The  Winged  Lions  charged 
them  but,  wearied  by  their  previous  encounter,  their  charge 


MAN  TO  MAN  79 

lacked  the  needed  impetuosity.  The  Jews  stoutly  held  their 
ground  and  the  attack  rolled  off  from  them  harmlessly.  Not 
an  inch  had  the  defenders  gained.  The  battle  became  general  ; 
blow  upon  blow  was  exchanged,  the  heavy  axes  of  the  Baby- 
lonians crashing  upon  the  palm  wood  spears  and  clubs  of  their 
opponents.  While  the  Jews  were  inferiorly  armed  their  fresh- 
ness and  superior  numbers  more  than  compensated,  making  it 
appear  an  equal  contest.  The  Jews,  though  unable  to  gain  the* 
level  mound,  held  their  original  position  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  and  the  Winged  Lions  could  not  force  them  back  down 
the  stairway. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  fight  Belibus  singled  out  Heber 
as  his  personal  antagonist.  Hatred  of  the  young  Jew  for  his 
treachery  against  Nabomuran — the  man  who  had  done  so  much 
for  him — gave  strength  to  the  tired  arm  of  Belibus.  In  arms 
and  equipment  as  well  as  in  youth  and  strength,  the  two  men 
were  about  equal.  But  for  the  Babylonian's  previous  encounter 
with  Joram,  and  his  attempts  to  control  the  fiery  troopers  after 
the  contest,  his  superior  skill  would  have  placed  Heber  at  a 
disadvantage. 

Both  men  fought  with  axes  of  almost  the  same  pattern,  save 
only  that  the  handle  of  Heber's  was  a  trifle  the  longer.  For 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes  they  hacked  and  dodged  and  parried. 
The  stout  wood  handles  of  their  weapons  were  cut  and  splin- 
tered, while  a  glancing  blow  had  inflicted  a  superficial  cut  upon 
the  right  hand  of  Belibus.  The  fight  thus  far  was  on  equal 
terms. 

"I  am  tiring,"  thought  Belibus.  "I  must  push  matters  or 
else  be  beaten." 

He  took  a  step  forward,  his  hand  firmly  grasping  his  weapon, 
his  jaws  set  and  a  look  of  fierce  determination  upon  his  face. 
He  raised  his  axe  aloft  and  pressed  against  Heber,  watching 
his  antagonist  closely  the  while.  The  young  Jew  experienced 
a  moment  of  weakness  and  stepped  back  quickly  to  avoid  the 
blow.  He  raised  his  axe  but  the  guard  was  poor.  He  ducked 
his  head  to  the  right  as  he  saw  the  blow  coming.  As  he  did 


8o  RHESA 

so  his  hand  swerved  a  trifle,  leaving  an  opening  for  his  opponent. 
Belibus  quickly  saw  his  opportunity;  his  axe  descended,  appear- 
ing as  if  it  would  land  directly  upon  the  bare  head  of  the  Jew, 
but  at  this  instant  Heber  took  another  backward  step.  His 
foot,  planted  directly  in  a  pool  of  drying  blood,  slipped  and 
down  he  went,  prostrate  before  his  antagonist.  The  terrible 
force  of  the  Babylonian's  blow  spent  itself  in  the  air.  The 
momentum  caused  him  to  lose  his  balance,  and  he  fell  across 
the  breast  of  Heber.  The  active  soldier,  however,  sprang  up 
instantly,  grasped  the  axe  which  had  flown  from  his  hand  as 
he  fell,  and  raised  it  aloft  to  dispatch  his  foe  and  thus  end 
the  contest. 

"Vengeance  is  the  king's,"  flashed  into  his  mind. 

"Wilt  thou  yield?"  he  asked. 

"I  yield,"  replied  the  humbled  Heber. 

"Then  arise,  go  into  the  palace  and  on  thine  honor  remain 
until  I  come.  If  thou  enterest  this  fight  again  thy  life  shall 
pay  for  thy  falsity." 

Heber  slowly  arose  and  hobbled  across  the  platform,  (for  in 
falling  a  ligament  in  his  right  ankle  had  been  sprained.)  Beli- 
bus stepped  aside  and  watched  him  as  long  as  his  form  was 
visible  in  the  darkness. 

Belibus  returned  to  the  still  undecided  fray.  His  presence 
was  an  inspiration  to  his  comrades,  who  had  exhibited  signs  of 
weakening  before  the  continued  onslaughts  of  the  confident 
Jews.  So  intent  had  been  the  latter  on  their  own  individual 
contests  that  they  had  not  observed  their  leader's  defeat.  The 
Winged  Lions,  taking  on  new  life,  made  a  desperate  charge  and 
forced  their  antagonists  back  a  few  feet.  The  advantage  was 
only  momentary,  however,  for  reinforcements  came  up  the  stair- 
way to  the  assistance  of  the  Jews. 

Faster  and  deadlier  rained  the  blows  from  the  Babylonian 
axes  while  fiercer  and  faster  came  the  spear  thrusts  of  the 
Hebrews.  The  outnumbered  troopers  were  almost  surrounded 
and  the  stout  heart  of  Belibus  sank  as  he  saw  defeat  staring 
him  in  the  face.  The  Jews  noted  with  joy  the  advantages  they 


MAN  TO  MAN  81 

had  won  over  their  enemies  and  rushed  forward  with  renewed 
vigor.  Their  ranks,  constantly  strengthened  by  fresh  men  from 
the  rear,  presented  a  solid  front.  Their  long-handled  spears, 
thrust  well  forward,  kept  the  soldiers  at  a  distance ;  for  in  order 
to  reach  a  man  the  soldiers  were  first  obliged  to  demolish  his 
weapon.  This  placed  them  at  a  disadvantage  and  Belibus  de- 
termined to  change  the  conditions. 

"Come  men,"  he  cried  as  he  seized  the  ends  of  two  spears  in 
his  left  hand,  holding  them  as  in  a  vise  while  he  rushed  in  and 
struck  down  their  holders  with  two  powerful  blows  from  his 
heavy  axe. 

The  men  caught  the  idea  and  followed  his  example.  The 
setting  moon  broke  through  the  clouds  and  illuminated  the 
scene,  thereby  greatly  assisting  the  defenders.  The  conflict  now 
became  terrific;  the  troopers  fighting  for  their  lives;  the  Jews 
for  freedom.  The  soldiers  were  striking  as  they  had  never 
struck  before  and  now  that  they  could  clearly  distinguish  their 
opponents,  the  blows  were  delivered  with  telling  accuracy. 
The  carnage  became  frightful,  the  blood  of  Jew  and  Babylonian 
mingling  in  a  ghastly  rill  and  flowing  down  the  steps.  Hardly 
a  man  engaged  but  had  a  wound.  Two  troopers  slowly  and 
painfully  dragged  themselves  from  the  scene,  only  to  die  before 
they  could  reach  the  palace.  The  fierce  blows  from  the  battle- 
axes  were  beginning  to  tell  as  one  after  another  the  Jews  fell 
before  them. 

"Keep  it  up,  men,"  cried  Belibus,  himself  fighting  as  a  fiend 
incarnate.  His  breastplate  was  cut  and  hacked  almost  to 
shreds;  his  helmet  battered  and  bruised;  his  whole  person  cov- 
ered with  blood ;  but  still  he  pressed  forward.  It  was  three  to 
one  against  him — two  spearmen  and  one  swordsman  opposing 
him — but  his  terrible  blows,  few  missing  their  mark,  kept  his 
adversaries  at  a  distance.  Still  the  unengaged  Jews  in  the 
rear  pressed  forward  to  their  fellowrs'  assistance.  When  one 
man  fell  another  was  ready  to  step  into  his  place,  thus  keeping 
the  line  intact.  Because  of  the  fresh  men  constantly  entering 


82  RHESA 

the  conflict  it  seemed  probable  the  final  victory  would  go  to 
the  undisciplined  Jews. 

Forward  and  back  swayed  the  opposing  line.  Scarcely  fifteen 
men  blocked  the  way  between  the  Hebrews  and  their  goal  but 
seemingly  those  fifteen  possessed  charmed  lives.  Belibus,  at 
the  extreme  left,  was  fighting  the  fight  of  his  life — though  his 
present  proud  position  had  been  won  by  personal  valor  alone — 
the  strength  of  a  god  seeming  to  possess  him.  Even  the  Jews" 
could  but  admire  the  prowess  of  the  man,  but  still  they  pressed 
him,  the  three  now  increased  to  five. 

"If  Nabomuran  were  only  here,"  thought  Belibus. 

An  ugly  looking  Jew  stood  directly  before  him.  He  was 
armed  with  a  long  sword  which  he  wielded  savagely.  Belibus 
dodged  the  blows  or  caught  them  on  his  axe,  while  he  returned 
them  with  interest,  but  only  his  wonderful  nerve  kept  his  weary 
muscles  at  work.  He  felt  that  even  this  must  soon  give  way 
before  the  terrible  strain,  but  before  that  happened  he  was 
determined  to  win  the  conflict  or  die  where  he  stood.  With  a 
desperate  rush  he  bore  down  upon  the  ugly  Jew  and  aimed  a 
fierce  blow  at  his  head.  The  blow,  well  aimed  and  well  de- 
livered, struck  the  man  dead  at  his  feet,  but  the  blow  seemed 
the  last  the  brave  lieutenant  would  strike  for  his  king,  for  at 
this  moment  the  four  remaining  antagonists  completely  sur- 
rounded him  and  death  and  defeat  seemed  imminent. 

A  commotion  took  place  among  the  rear  ranks  of  the  Jews. 
They  were  forced  apart  to  allow  a  tall  white-clad  figure,  armed 
with  a  huge  battle-axe,  to  pass  through  them.  The  figure 
neared  Belibus,  reaching  his  side  at  the  critical  moment  of  the 
contest.  A  terrible  blow  from  the  newcomer's  weapon  struck 
down  a  Jew  who  was  on  the  point  of  thrusting  his  spear  into 
the  lieutenant's  unguarded  side.  The  white-clad  figure  was 
Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard. 

Inspired  by  his  presence  and  aided  by  his  fresh  arm  the 
Winged  Lions  made  a  last  desperate  rush  upon  their  enemies. 
Slowly  the  Jews  gave  way  before  the  impetuous  charge.  Down, 
down,  the  now  confident  troopers  pushed  them,  until  at  length 


MAN  TO  MAN  83 

the  line  broke  and  the  survivors  fled  precipitately  down  the  steps. 
Too  late!  Drawn  up  at  the  foot  of  the  stairway,  in  instant 
readiness  for  service  stood  a  regiment  of  the  king's  best  spear- 
men. Rank  upon  rank  stretched  away  from  the  foot  of  the 
stairway,  their  forms  barely  distinguishable  in  the  faint  light. 
Caught  in  a  trap  the  weary  Jews  laid  down  their  arms  and 
suffered  themselves  to  be  bound  and  led  away  to  prison.  The 
worn  out  troopers  left  this  work  to  the  fresh  troops.  The 
winners  of  the  conflict  walked  slowly  across  the  platform  to 
the  palace,  carrying  their  wounded  comrades  with  them. 

As  they  passed  through  the  arched  portal  of  the  palace  into 
the  great  hall  that  ran  the  entire  length  of  the  building,  a  simi- 
lar party  entered  at  the  opposite  end.  They  also  carried  some 
wounded  comrades.  Catching  sight  of  this  band,  Nabomuran 
and  Belibus  hurried  forward  to  meet  them. 

"How  went  matters  at  the  north?"  asked  the  commander. 

"We  were  entirely  successful,"  replied  a  soldier,  "but  I  fear 
our  victory  is  won  at  the  cost  of  our  brave  trumpeter's  life." 

A  look  of  dismay  and  sorrow  came  over  the  commander's 
face  upon  receipt  of  this  intelligence.  He  bent  low  over  the 
form  of  his  beloved  subordinate,  placed  his  ear  close  to  the 
wounded  man's  breast  and  listened. 

"He  is  alive,"  he  cried.  "Bring  him  into  my  apartment  at 
once.  One  man  call  Kudur  and  another  take  the  best  horse  in 
the  stables  and  ride  to  the  temple.  Summon  hither  my  father 
to  attend  the  wounds  of  our  friend." 

Two  soldiers  hastened  to  obey  their  commander's  orders. 
Nabomuran  led  the  way  to  his  own  room.  The  soldiers  ten- 
derly deposited  their  burden  upon  the  captain's  couch.  While 
they  awaited  the  coming  of  those  sent  for  to  care  for  the  trum- 
peter's wounds,  Nabomuran  listened  to  a  recital  of  the  night's 
events.  Belibus  related  the  incidents  connected  with  the  fight 
at  the  river  stairs  and  at  the  south  stairs,  while  a  soldier  told 
of  events  taken  part  in  by  the  band  under  the  unfortunate 
Nergalshazzar. 

The  fight  at  the  northern  stairway  while  lasting  as  long  as 


84  RHESA 

that  at  the  south  had  been  less  disastrous  to  the  Winged  Lions, 
as  regarded  the  number  of  killed  and  wounded,  but  should  the 
troop  lose  its  popular  trumpeter,  they  would  consider  the  vic- 
tory won  at  great  cost.  According  to  the  soldier's  account 
Nergalshazzar  engaged  in  a  personal  encounter  with  the  leader 
of  the  band  opposing  his.  The  engagement  was  both  long  and 
furious,  the  extreme  quickness  and  dexterity  of  the  Jewess  en- 
abling her  to  escape  the  soldier's  terrific  blows.  At  length, 
however,  an  opportune  blow,  striking  full  upon  her  bronze 
helmet  and  glancing  to  her  forehead  inflicted  a  severe  cut.  This 
brought  her  to  her  knees,  and  placed  her  entirely  at  the  Baby- 
lonian's mercy.  As  she  fell,  her  helmet  dropped  from  her 
head  and  rolled  upon  the  pavement.  This  accident,  causing 
her  long  hair  to  fall,  disclosed  her  sex.  With  all  the  soldier's 
inborn  reverence  for  womankind,  he  gallantly  stepped  aside  and 
allowed  her  to  rise.  The  treacherous  Jewess  accepted  her  life 
at  his  hands  but  upon  regaining  her  feet,  she  rewarded  his 
courtesy  by  plunging  a  sword  deep  into  his  unguarded  side. 
He  turned  to  strike  at  the  murderess,  but  her  blow  had  been 
truly  aimed.  He  dropped  slowly  to  his  knees  and  then  fell 
forward  upon  his  face,  apparently  dead.  In  the  excitement 
Tirmar  slipped  through  and  behind  her  company.  After  this 
the  engagement  was  brief.  The  Winged  Lions,  maddened  by 
Tirmar's  base  deed,  fought  like  demons,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  Jews  broke  and  fled,  leaving  many  dead  and  wounded  behind 
them.  Tirmar,  however,  escaped. 

What  dire  news  the  surviving  Jews  carried  back  to  the 
house  in  the  wheatfield.  Of  the  three  hundred  men  who  started 
out  to  fight  for  Judah,  scarcely  fifty  found  their  way  back. 
The  remainder  were  either  dead  or,  what  might  prove  worse, 
prisoners.  Of  the  three  leaders,  Joram  was  slain,  his  body 
drifting  down  the  Euphrates  toward  the  sea;  Heber,  a  prisoner 
destined  for  the  dungeons  beneath  the  king's  palace;  and 
Tirmar,  a  fugitive. 

Thus  ended  the  Jewish  attempt  to  work  out  their  own  salva- 
tion. Thus  God  did  thwart  the  plans  of  His  chosen  people  that 


THE  RESCUE  85 

His  own  plans  might  not  be  interfered  with.  Thus  He  showed 
the  Jews  their  destinies  were  in  His  hands  and  He  alone  could 
give  them  freedom. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  RESCUE 

Actuated  by  a  sudden  impulse  Orma  followed  Nabomuran 
as  he  walked  slowly  down  the  path  leading  from  her  father's 
house  to  the  street.  She  had  therefore  been  a  witness  of  his 
capture.  Even  in  the  darkness  she  recognized  her  brother  and 
his  evil  genius,  Tirmar.  The  feelings  engendered  by  the  scene 
were  conflicting.  Her  great  and  natural  love  for  her  brother 
forbade  her  condemning  him  too  severely;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  deep  admiration  and  respect  she  had  for  the  hand- 
some Babylonian  raised  within  her  a  desire  to  help  him  if  she 
could.  Although  thoroughly  a  woman,  in  the  highest  sense 
of  the  name,  there  was  yet  in  her  makeup  that  quality  peculiar 
to  man  which  lauds  and  demands  a  fair  fight  upon  equal  terms. 
The  unfairness  of  the  attack  she  had  witnessed  affronted  that 
inborn  feeling  and  she  could  but  feel  less  respect  for  the  brother 
who  had  won  the  unequal  contest  than  for  the  lover  who  had 
lost  it. 

Thus  preyed  upon  by  conflicting  emotions  she  retraced  her 
steps  to  her  bower.  Her  faithful  little  attendant  who  had  been 
at  her  side  watching  the  conflict,  followed  her.  It  was  now  past 
the  hour  of  her  retirement,  but  knowing  full  well  sleep  would 
not  come  at  her  bidding,  she  still  remained  in  the  garden.  She 
lay  for  several  moments  upon  the  couch,  her  arms  folded  and 
her  head  buried  within  them.  Her  long  hair  was  in  the  wildest 
confusion,  yet  a  confusion  that  enhanced  rather  than  detracted 
from  her  beauty.  Suddenly  she  raised  her  head  and  called  to 
Ruth.  The  little  maiden  hastened  to  her  side. 

"Thou  sawest  the  captain  taken  prisoner?"  she  asked. 


86  RHESA 

"I  did,"  was  the  reply. 

"Didst  thou  notice  whither  they  carried  him?  In  the  ex- 
citement I  did  not  see." 

"They  carried  him  across  the  road  and  waited  for  another 
party.  Then  they  set  off  toward  the  outer  wall." 

"Couldst  thou  follow  them?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Then  go  and  see  what  they  do  with  their  prisoner.  See 
where  they  put  him.  Go!  Run!  Oh,  Ruth,  hurry!  A  new 
shawl  will  I  give  thee  if  thou  wilt  only  bring  me  news  of  him." 

Orma  watched  the  little  maid  as  she  ran  across  the  garden. 
Then  she  turned  and  threw  herself  upon  the  couch. 

"What  can  I  do?"  she  moaned.  "If  I  assist  the  captain  I 
will  call  down  vengeance  upon  my  brother's  head.  Heber! 
Heber!  Why  wilt  thou  be  perverse?  Oh,  my  brother,  my 
brother." 

A  step  upon  the  hard  path  without  aroused  her.  She  arose 
and  hastened  to  see  who  might  be  approaching  at  this  hour. 
Coming  up  the  walk,  with  slow  step  and  bowed  head  was 
Nehum,  her  father.  The  old  man  seemed  downcast;  his  hands 
were  clasped  behind  his  back  and  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the 
ground  before  him. 

As  the  old  man  neared  his  daughter's  retreat  he  raised  his 
eyes.  Her  white  dress  outlined  against  the  dark  background 
showed  him  her  presence  and  he  gave  a  joyous  exclamation. 

"Ah,  my  daughter,  is  that  thee?  I  was  sleepless  and  came 
out  into  the  garden  thinking  a  walk  might  do  me  good." 

"Come  into  the  bower,  father.  I  wish  to  speak  to  thee. 
To  converse  together  may  relieve  both  our  minds,"  she  said. 

Orma  led  the  old  man  to  the  couch.  She  placed  a  low  stool 
at  his  feet  and  seated  herself  thereon.  She  folded  her  arms 
upon  his  knees  and  looked  up  into  his  face  with  sweet  love. 
Her  father  placed  one  hand  upon  her  glossy  hair  and  lovingly 
stroked  it.  The  soldier  was  forgotten  in  the  homage  her  heart 
bestowed  upon  her  father.  Since  the  death  of  the  wife  and 
mother,  father  and  daughter  had  been  daily  growing  more  dear 


THE  RESCUE  87 

to  each  other.  It  was  pure  attachment  of  parent  and  child, 
the  highest  type  of  love  possessed  by  man,  a  love  kindled  and 
kept  ever  burning  by  the  payment  of  mutual  kindnesses  and 
attentions.  Thus  looking  up  into  her  father's  benign  coun- 
tenance she  revealed  unto  him  all  that  was  passing  in  her  mind. 

"When  I  wrote  thy  invitation  to  the  captain  I  added  an 
invitation  for  myself.  I  wished  to  speak  with  him  concerning 
Heber.  At  my  request  he  told  me  all.  He  sent  Heber  with 
a  message  of  the  king's,  but  the  message  failed  to  arrive  on 
time.  Heber  was  stopped  by  Tirmar  and  led  to  her  father's 
house.  The  captain  did  not  seem  to  know,  father,  but  we 
know  that  our  misguided  countrymen  meet  there  to  plan  their 
wild  schemes  of  rebellion.  I  fear  Heber  is  leagued  with  them. 
Oh,  father,  if  they  carry  out  their  intentions  and  fail,  our  poor 
boy's  life  will  be  in  danger;  not  even  the  captain's  intervention 
could  save  him,"  she  said. 

"My  boy!     My  poor  misguided  boy!"  cried  the  old  man. 

"Did  the  soldier  have  aught  further  to  say?"  he  asked  after 
a  moment. 

"Nothing  more  concerning  Heber,"  she  replied,  somewhat 
embarrassed. 

"What  then  did  he  say?" 

She  slipped  one  hand  confidingly  within  his  broad  palm. 

"He  told  me  he — he — loved — me."  She  spoke  the  words 
slowly  and  almost  in  a  whisper  as  one  who  makes  a  dreaded 
confession. 

Her  father  was  silent.  In  the  darkness  she  could  not  see 
the  expression  of  his  countenance,  but  she  feared  he  was  dis- 
pleased. He  waited  some  moments  before  speaking. 

"To  know  thee  is  to  love  thee,  daughter,"  he  said  tenderly, 
"and  I  can  but  feel  pride  that  a  mighty  captain,  standing  high 
in  the  king's  service  should  thus  honor  a  child  of  mine.  Yet, 
the  noblest  of  his  race  though  he  appears  unto  me,  he  is  an 
idolater.  He  is  still  the  worshiper  of  stone  images,  his  father 
the  head  of  a  false  religion.  My  child,  didst  thou  accept  his 
love?" 


88  RHESA 

"Nay  father.  I  spoke  of  the  barriers  between  us,  but  he 
made  no  reply.  He  only  became  thoughtful;  troubled." 

"Dost  thou  love  him,  dear  one?" 

She  was  silent.  Her  foot  tapped  the  hard  floor  nervously; 
tears  came  into  her  eyes  and  her  lips  quivered.  The  old  man 
awaited  patiently  the  answer  but  he  more  than  half  suspected. 
Her  silence  showed  her  suffering.  The  hand  he  passed  over 
her  brow  returned  to  him  moist.  As  he  thought  of  the  struggle 
going  on  at  his  feet,  his  love  for  his  daughter  grew  to  fever 
heat.  He  felt  that  never  before  had  he  fully  appreciated  this 
blessing  God  had  bestowed  upon  him. 

She  looked  up  suddenly. 

"Father,"  she  said,  "I  cannot  deny  the  truth  I  hope  to 
overcome.  I  love  the  soldier  next  to  thee.  He  seemeth  so 
noble,  so  grand.  His  actions  are  manly;  his  words  are  words 
of  wisdom;  his  character  is  pure  and  high.  His  purposes  in 
life  seem  commendable;  he  is  devoted  to  his  king  and  to  his 
country.  He  is,  as  thou  sayest,  a  worshiper  of  idols  but  there 
may  yet  come  to  him  a  revelation;  he  may  yet  feel  the  lack 
of  that  comfort  we  know  of.  Father,  is  it  wrong  for  me  to 
love  him?  Am  I  false  to  my  God  in  feeling  affection  for  an 
idolater?" 

Nehum  was  silent  as  he  pondered  well  the  questions  she 
put  to  him. 

"Daughter,"  he  said  finally,  "thy  happiness  and  welfare  are 
dearer  to  me  than  aught  else  on  earth.  Whatever  troubles 
thee  troubles  me;  whatever  pleases  thee  pleases  me.  I  would 
not  hastily  answer  the  questions  thou  puttest  to  me.  Let  us 
both  think  closely  on  the  matter ;  let  us  ask  our  Father  to  guide 
us  and  to  Him  leave  the  decision.  He  worketh  all  things  well. 
Those  who  trust  in  God,  who  let  Him  decide  their  earthly 
matters  for  them  always  triumph  over  their  difficulties.  It  is 
best  to  say  nothing  more  of  the  matter.  If  the  captain's  love 
is  as  strong  as  the  man's  nature  bids  me  believe,  he  will  await 
thy  final  decision,  though  years  and  troubles  intervene. 

"Aside  from  thy  religious  differences  I  have  no  objections  to 


THE  RESCUE  89 

this  man  becoming  thy  husband,  but  it  is  against  my  belief  that 
thou  shouldst  wed  an  idolater.  Let  Jehovah  be  thy  constant 
guide.  Lean  upon  Him  and  at  His  feet  lay  thy  every  trial. 
He  will  decide  all  for  thy  best  good.  Now  daughter,  I  will 
leave  thee.  I  feel  better  for  our  little  talk." 

After  advising  her  to  seek  her  couch  soon,  he  arose,  kissed 
her  lovingly  and  departed.  Orma  resumed  her  previous  recum- 
bent position  upon  the  couch  in  the  bower  and  lay  quietly  await- 
ing Ruth's  return.  The  moments  drifted  by;  she  felt  her  eye- 
lids growing  heavier  and  heavier.  Finally  nature  asserted 
itself  and  she  dropped  into  a  peaceful  slumber.  She  was  awak- 
ened by  feeling  Ruth's  hands  upon  her  shoulders.  Throwing 
off  her  drowsiness  she  arose. 

"What  news  bringest  thou?"  she  asked  impatiently. 

"They  carried  the  soldier  to  the  house  of  Josedek  and  con- 
fined him  beneath  it.  Vast  throngs  of  armed  men  were  gath- 
ered about  the  house  and  I  feared  to  go  near,  so  I  hid  myself 
in  the  wheat  and  watched.  While  I  lay  there  I  heard  low 
talking,  and  then  three  columns  of  men  marched  away.  The 
others  dispersed  and  soon  I  was  bold  enough  to  approach  the 
house.  There  is  but  one  man  left  on  guard,  and  him  I  know. 
Can  we  not  undo  the  door  and  let  the  captain  out?" 

This  suggestion  had  not  before  entered  Orma's  mind.  After 
sending  Ruth  to  find  his  prison  she  had  thought  of  what  she 
could  do  to  aid  him,  but  nothing  had  suggested  itself  to  her. 
Now  for  fear  her  sober  second  thought  would  forbid  such  action, 
she  hastened  to  do  as  the  little  maid  suggested. 

"Lead  thou  the  way,  Ruth.  We  will  do  what  we  can,"  she 
said. 

Ruth  guided  her  straight  to  the  house  of  Josedek.  In  the 
edge  of  the  wheat  they  halted  to  listen  and  to  ascertain  what 
opposition  remained.  The  young  sentry  was  still  on  guard, 
pacing  slowly  up  and  down  before  the  cellar  entrance.  He 
seemed  fully  awake  to  his  duty.  Orma's  heart  sank  as  she  saw 
no  chance  of  his  deserting  his  post.  On  the  very  threshold  of 


90  RHESA 

the  soldier's  prison  she  seemed  defeated.  Then  the  ready  wit 
of  her  little  maid  came  to  the  rescue. 

"Wait,"  she  whispered,  "I  will  persuade  him  to  leave  for 
a  moment." 

Advancing  to  the  very  edge  of  the  cleared  space  surrounding 
the  house,  she  called  softly,  "Mada." 

The  sentry  heard  and  stopped  abruptly.  Again  the  girl  spake 
his  name.  He  looked  in  all  directions,  vainly  endeavoring  to 
see  through  the  darkness.  As  she  repeated  his  name  the  third 
time  Ruth  advanced  toward  him. 

"O  Ruth,  is  it  thee?"  he  asked  as  he  recognized  her. 

Orma  could  hear  nothing  more  that  passed  between  them, 
but  in  a  moment  she  heard  their  steps  as  Ruth  led  the  sentry 
away  from  the  door.  Allowing  them  time  to  get  out  of  hear- 
ing, she  crept  from  her  hiding  place,  hurried  across  the  inter- 
vening space  and  groped  her  way  to  the  building.  Upon  reach- 
ing the  door  she  found  it  to  be  securely  fastened  by  a  heavy  bar 
of  palm  wood.  She  grasped  the  bar  with  both  hands  and 
tugged,  tugged  till  the  blood  mounted  to  her  head,  but  to  no 
avail.  Undaunted,  she  placed  her  shoulder  beneath  the  bar  and 
firmly  bracing  her  feet  for  a  final  effort,  lifted  with  every 
atom  of  strength  in  her  body.  The  bar  gave  way  and,  with 
a  crash  that  to  her  excited  sensibilities  seemed  terrific,  fell  at 
her  feet.  The  door  flew  open  and  she  passed  through  into  the 
inky  blackness  of  the  cellar.  She  stopped  to  listen,  hoping  some 
sound  from  the  prisoner  might  guide  her  to  his  cell.  She  was 
not  disappointed.  In  a  voice  muffled  by  the  partitions  Nabo- 
muran  was  calling  upon  his  gods  to  rescue  him. 

She  groped  her  way  toward  the  sound,  and  feeling  her  way 
along  the  damp  walls,  came  to  the  door  of  his  cell.  A  simple 
bronze  hasp  was  its  only  fastening.  It  yielded  to  her  touch; 
the  door  swung  slowly  open  and  she  found  herself  upon  the 
threshold  of  her  lover's  prison.  Now  for  the  first  time  she 
realized  the  step  she  had  taken,  the  position  she  was  in.  She 
could  feel  the  blood  mounting  to  her  brow,  but  she  controlled 
her  embarrassment,  thankful  that  it  was  dark. 


THE  RESCUE  gi 

"Captain,"  she  called  softly. 

"What  voice  is  that?  It  sounds  like  sweet  music  on  mine 
ear,  came  a  voice  from  the  darkness. 

"It  is  I,  Orma  the  daughter  of  Nehum,"  she  answered. 

"As  if  that  voice  could  be  unknown  to  me,"  he  said 

"Art  thou  bound  ?"  she  asked. 

^"My  cords  are  loosed  sufficiently  for  me  to  walk." 

"Then  come,  sir,  come  quickly.  The  guard  is  absent  for  a 
moment  and  thou  must  be  well  away  from  here  ere  he  returns." 

He  obeyed  in  silence  and  together  they  groped  their  way  out 
into  the  open  air.  Ruth  was  playing  her  part  well— the  guard 
had  not  returned. 

"How  can  I  ever  repay  thee  for  thine  act  this  night?"  said 
the  soldier  bending  over  her. 

"Speak  not  of  pay  but  for  thy  safety's  sake  leave  this  spot 
See,  here  is  the  guard's  battle-axe.  Take  it,  sever  thy  cords 
and  go  I  beseech  thee." 

"But — "  began  the  soldier. 

"Not  another  word,"  she  said  commandingly. 

Realizing  her  wisdom,  he  took  the  axe,  cut  the  cords  that 
bound  his  ankles  and,  snatching  her  hand  before  she  realized 
his^intentions,  imprinted  thereon  a  passionate  kiss. 

"Thine  action  gives  me  hope,"  he  murmured.  ' 

"Nay!"  she  cried,  "what  I  have  done  for  thee  I  would  have 
done  for  another  in  like  strait." 

The  soldier  smiled  at  her  mild  falsehood.  He  waved  her 
another  kiss,  ran  across  the  cleared  space  and  disappeared  in 
the  wheat. 

Nabomuran  hurried  toward  the  city.  As  he  neared  the  old 
palace  he  heard  the  sounds  of  conflict  and  quickened  his  pace 
He  was  bewildered  by  the  night's  events,  and  knew  not  how 

r  reaching  this  rebellion  might  be.     A  trooper  galloped  by 
Nabomuran  hailed  him  and  inquired  the  meaning  of  the  noise 
I  know  not,"  replied  the  man.     "I  have  only  this  moment 
neard  it  and  am  riding  to  find  the  cause." 

"Go  thou  and  bid  a  regiment  of  foot  come  to  the  palace  with 


92  RHESA 

all  haste.     I  know  not  the  meaning  of  this  commotion  but  it 
is  best  to  be  prepared  for  any  thing.  '*  or. 

The  trooper  turned  and  rode  awU,  to  carry  out  his  com- 
mander's orders.  He  had  proceeded  scarcely  three  blocks  be- 
fore he  met  a  regiment  en  route  for  the  scene  of  conflict.  Some 
member  of  the  troop  had  heard  of  the  engagement  and  acting 
on  his  own  responsibility,  had  hastened  to  summon  assistance. 
To  the  foresight  of  this  unknown  man  the  Jews  owed  their 
final  defeat. 


Nabomuran  stood  sadly  beside  his  couch  gazing  down  into 
the  white,  drawn  features  of  his'<  >eloved  trumpeter.  Kudur, 
the  chief  of  the  servants  attached  to  the  Winged  Lions,  was 
a  surgeon  of  no  mean  order  as  surgeons  went  in  those  days.  He 
used  every  method  known  to  him  to  stanch  the  blood  that  flowed 
from  the  trumpeter's  ghastly  wound;  but  all  without  avail. 
The  sword  of  the  treacherous  Jewess  had  penetrated  too  deeply. 

Neboakhu,  (who  in  addition  to  his  priestly  office  was  termed 
the  best  surgeon  in  the  land)  came  at  his  son's  request,  but  the 
distance  he  had  to  traverse  made  him  slow  to  reach  the  palace. 
He  undid  the  bandages  that  Kudur  had  applied  and  compli- 
mented the  Susianian  upon  his  work.  He  looked  at  the  wound 
carefully  and  then,  turning  to  his  companions,  he  said  quietly: 
"No  human  skill  can  save  him." 

Tears  came  into  the  eyes  of  the  soldiers  at  this  announcement. 
With  the  possible  exception  of  Nabomuran  the  trumpeter  was 
the  most  popular  member  of  the  troop.  Neboakhu  continued 
his  ministrations  but  nothing  he  could  do  would  stop  the  flow 
of  blood.  At  length,  giving  up  all  hope  the  priest  arose  and 
left  the  couch,  Nabomuran  following. 

A  movement  in  the  group  about  the  couch  attracted  their 
attention  and  both  men  moved  across  the  room  to  the  sufferer's 
side.  Nergalshazzar  showed  some  signs  of  life.  Indeed  as  they 
reached  his  side  his  eyes  opened  and  his  lips  moved.  The  priest 
leaned  over  to  catch  whatever  word  he  might  speak. 


THE  GREAT  PROCESSION  93 

"Belibus,"  murmured  the  dying  man. 

The  lieutenant  apprr  ,hed  the  bedside  at  a  signal  from 
Neboakhu  and  knelt  bei  .e  his  comrade. 

"Tell  Halista — my  last — thoughts  were  of — her. — Win — her 
— my — Belibus — and — may — the — gods — bless  thee.  For — give 
that — Jew — ess — as — freely  as — I — forgive — her.  I — am — dy- 
ing. It — is — well.  — I  shall — not — see  the — usur — per — mount 
the — throne.  May  curses — rest — upon  the — head  of  Nabon — 
idos — and " 

Here  the  broken  utterance  ceased.  Belibus  remained  beside 
the  couch  intently  listening  for  some  further  word  from  his 
friend.  Neboakhu  poured  a  small  quantity  of  wine  down  the 
dying  man's  throat.  He  Opened  his  eyes  and  again  his  lips 
moved. 

"The  captain,"  he  murmured. 

Nabomuran  succeeded  his  subordinate  at  the  bedside.  Ner- 
galshazzar  placed  his  hand  in  that  of  his  superior. 

"Farewell.     May — the — gods — bless — and — honor  thee." 

Again  he  stopped.  Nabomuran  arose  and  the  priest  took 
his  place.  A  moment  later  he  arose. 

"It  is  over,"  he  said  solemnly. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   GREAT    PROCESSION 

The  tenth  day  of  June,  five  hundred  and  thirty-nine  years 
before  the  opening  of  the  Christian  era  was  eminently  suited 
by  nature  for  celebrating  so  momentous  an  event  as  the  corona- 
tion of  a  new  king  in  Babylon  the  Magnificent.  When,  but 
an  hour  after  the  weary  troopers  of  the  Winged  Lions  had 
retired  to  secure  what  rest  the  lateness  of  the  hour  permitted, 
the  sun's  glorious  orb  appeared  above  the  city's  mammoth  wall 
and  its  first  rays  rested  upon  the  golden  roof  of  the  beautiful 
temple,  it  was  apparent  the  gods  were  to  smile  upon  the  new 


QA.  RHESA 

king  for  one  day  at  least.  In  ancient  augury  the  propitious 
weather  of  his  coronation  day  gave  promise  of  a  successful 
reign  for  the  youthful  prince. 

The  luxurious  inhabitants  of  the  Golden  City  were  usually 
late  risers  but  this  custom  was  broken  upon  the  morning  now 
so  auspiciously  opened.  By  eight  o'clock  the  streets  began 
to  take  on  a  holiday  appearance. 

Imagine  standing  in  a  sheltered  vantage  spot  upon  that  great 
thoroughfare  so  often  mentioned  in  these  pages.  Our  station 
is  just  inside  the  inner  wall  where  we  can  watch  the  coming 
throngs  as  they  hurry  toward  the  center  of  the  city.  See! 
Here  they  come.  Here  comes  a  group  of  gaily  attired  chil- 
dren conducted  by  a  decorous  old  female  slave.  Running, 
playing,  shouting,  laughing  they  skip  along.  Heirs  of  some 
noble  old  house  they  are  no  doubt.  A  group  of  adults  follow, 
Babylonians  also,  their  dark  faces  lighted  up  with  expectancy. 
Following  them  come  two  aged  Jews,  walking  slowly  with 
bowed  heads  and  solemn  mien.  They  seem  sorrowful.  Per- 
haps their  boys  perished  by  the  river  side  last  night  or  are  now 
prisoners  in  the  dark  dungeons  beneath  the  Euphrates. 

The  people  crowd  by  faster  than  we  can  recognize  them.  All 
the  nations  of  the  East  are  represented.  Here  is  a  Susianian,  his 
thick  lips  and  swarthy  countenance  forming  a  striking  contrast 
with  his  gown  of  spotless  white  linen.  Behind  walks  a  Greek, 
a  tall  handsome  fellow  whose  long  strides  and  graceful  carriage 
denote  an  athlete.  The  people  about  regard  him  curiously  but 
he  hurries  along  unconscious  of  their  stares.  Next  we  see  a 
Phoenician  merchant  and  his  retinue.  His  ship  is  even  now 
moored  at  the  port  to  the  south  where  slaves  are  unloading  his 
precious  silks  and  spices.  His  rich  habiliments  and  important 
air  bespeak  him  a  man  of  consequence.  A  company  of  Arabs 
files  through  the  gateway,  on  foot,  their  horses  left  outside  the 
gate.  At  their  head  walks  their  youthful  sheik;  perhaps  we 
may  see  him  again  in  the  future. 

Why  tarry  here  in  idleness  longer  when  we  should  be  securing 
our  position  for  viewing  the  great  parade?  We  join  the  on- 


THE  GREAT  PROCESSION  95 

rushing  multitude  and  are  borne  onward.  Whither  it  goes  we 
must  go.  We  are  barely  able  as  we  hurry  by  to  notice  the 
houses  beside  our  way.  Gay  banners  and  streamers  fly  in  the 
gentle  morning  breeze.  Every  house  has  its  decorations  to  show 
the  patriotism  of  its  owner.  For  the  one  day  at  least  all  are 
loyal.  We  cannot  stay  to  witness  the  beauty  of  the  trimmings, 
but  are  hurried  along  faster  than  we  wish,  but  we  care  not.  All 
are  in  good  nature  this  morning.  At  last  the  rushing  tide  de- 
posits us  in  the  market  place  before  the  wine  shop  of  old  Makeil. 
We  stop  and  seek  refreshment. 

Old  Makeil  is  busy.  His  regular  patrons  and  many  new  ones 
demand  his  attention.  For  the  day  he  has  impressed  the  serv- 
ices of  a  dozen  black-eyed  Jewish  maidens  who,  clad  in  simple 
white  gowns,  flit  about  among  the  tables  ministering  to  the 
wants  of  the  thirsty  throngs.  At  a  table  near  the  street  sit 
Belesis,  Iddin  and  their  comrades,  their  time  divided  between 
gazing  upon  the  passing  throngs  and  inflicting  lewd  jests  upon 
the  unsuspicious  maidens. 

"A  gallant  fight  the  Winged  Lions  made  last  night,"  said 
Iddin,  to  introduce  a  new  topic. 

"What  fight  is  that?"  asked  a  companion. 

"Hast  thou  then  not  heard?  A  band  of  Jews  suddenly  and 
without  warning  attacked  the  old  palace  where  the  Winged 
Lions  are  lodged.  It  was  a  desperate  encounter  but  the  soldiers 
were  victorious  in  the  end.  I  fear  our  troop  of  which  we  are  so 
proud  will  make  but  a  sorry  appearance  to-day.  Many  of  the 
men  were  wounded  and  those  who  escaped  unhurt  must  be 
nearly  exhausted." 

"Were  many  killed?"  asked  one. 

"Several,  I  know  not  how  many.  The  greatest  casualty  was 
the  death  of  Nergalshazzar." 

"Alas!"  exclaimed  several  of  the  group. 

"He  was  or°  of  the  finest  of  men,"  said  Belesis.  "It  is  indeed 
a  pity  he  should  be  killed  at  the  very  beginning  of  a  brilliant 
career.  I  have  heard  he  aspired  to  the  hand  of  Halista." 


96  RHESA 

"Perhaps  it  is  well  for  Belshazzar  that  the  trumpeter  was 
killed  at  this  time,"  remarked  one  of  the  group. 

"Why?"  asked  several  at  once. 

"It  is  rumored  the  handsome  trumpeter  was  none  other  than 
Sheshbazzar,  the  claimant  of  the  throne  about  whom  so  much  is 
said  of  late." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Iddin  decidedly,  "Nergalshazzar's  parent- 
age is  unknown,  I  admit,  but  I  have  heard  it  stated  his  presence 
on  earth  was  due  to  his  mother's  worship  of  Beltis." 

A  hearty  laugh  greeted  this  remark.  Children  resulting 
from  this  peculiar  worship  were  no  rarity  in  Babylon. 

"As  to  this  Sheshbazzar,  I  sometimes  think  no  such  man 
exists,"  added  Iddin. 

"For  the  sake  of  peace  let  us  hope  thou  art  right,"  said 
Belesis. 

The  street  was  now  densely  packed  with  people  awaiting  the 
coming  of  the  great  procession.  The  young  noblemen  settled 
with  Makeil,  and  left  the  shop.  They  pushed  their  way  through 
the  throng  toward  the  junction  of  the  market  place  and  the 
temple  street.  Here  a  gigantic  triumphal  arch  had  been  erected. 
Upon  the  arch's  summit  seats  had  been  arranged  for  the  ladies 
and  it  was  this  attraction  that  drew  the  gay  youths  toward 
the  arch.  Pushing,  crowding,  elbowing  they  forced  their  way 
through  the  crowd.  The  attendants  at  the  entrance  recognized 
them  and  they  were  allowed  to  mount  the  winding  stairs  that 
led  up  through  one  leg  of  the  arch  to  its  summit.  They  emerged 
in  the  midst  of  a  literal  bower  of  beauty.  Here  were  gathered 
all  the  noble  maids  and  matrons  of  the  Golden  City.  All? 
No,  for  the  foremost  woman  of  the  land  was  missing.  Nitocris, 
queen  of  Babylon  had  failed  to  make  her  appearance  and  occupy 
the  beautiful  throne  erected  for  her  upon  the  edge  of  the  arch's 
summit.  Her  place  was  supplied  by  the  popular  and  beautiful 
Halista,  the  king's  niece.  Here,  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
male  and  female  admirers,  noble  men  and  beautiful  women,  she 
sat  as  a  queen. 

The  slender  lines  of  girlhood  had  but  given  place  to  the 


THE  GREAT  PROCESSION  97 

more  rounded  figure  of  young  womanhood.  It  was  her  rarely 
beautiful  face  that  was  her  chief  attraction,  a  face  denoting 
the  inner  purity  of  a  noble  soul  which  even  life  in  a  corrupt 
court  had  failed  to  taint.  Her  eyes,  so  black,  so  beautiful,  that 
seemed  to  rest  so  quietly  upon  the  face  of  whomever  she  con- 
versed with,  could  on  occasion  flash  fire.  With  all  her  inno- 
cence and  frankness  there  was  drawn  about  Halista  a  magic 
circle  within  which  none  dared  step.  Never  during  her  whole 
life  had  one  approached  her  with  aught  but  feelings  of  respect. 

She  was  attired  as  befitted  royalty.  A  long  loose  gown  of 
the  purest  silk  descended  to  her  feet.  The  straps  over  her 
shoulders  were  likewise  of  silk,  interwoven  with  threads  of 
gold  and  silver.  They  were  profusely  embroidered  with  gold 
and  trimmed  with  the  fairest  of  pearls.  A  necklace  of  the 
same  gems  encircled  her  snowy  neck  while  a  tiara  of  gold  set 
with  pearls  and  precious  stones  adorned  the  glossy,  raven-hued 
hair  that  graced  her  noble  head. 

It  was  toward  this  beautiful  woman  that  Iddin,  the  rab  mag's 
son,  made  his  way.  She  turned  at  his  approach  and,  while  ap- 
parently welcoming  him,  there  was  too  little  deception  in  her 
character  to  enable  her  to  fully  disguise  the  loathing  she  felt 
for  the  man.  The  dullest  bystander  could  plainly  see  the  rab 
mag's  son  was  no  favorite  with  the  king's  niece. 

"Ha,"  said  the  youth,  "I  behold  a  younger  and  handsomer 
queen  than  I  expected  to  find." 

"Younger  only,"  replied  the  princess.  "Queen  Nitocris  has 
no  rival  in  beauty."  She  spoke  sharply,  making  no  attempt 
to  disguise  her  abhorrence  of  his  flattery. 

"Our  queen  is  ill  to-day,  I  fear,"  continued  Iddin. 

"I  know  not.  She  only  announced  her  intention  of  re- 
maining at  the  palace."  As  she  spoke  she  leaned  over  and 
gazed  down  upon  the  crowd  below. 

A  faint  sound  of  music  floated  up  to  them.  The  people 
below  heard  it. 

"Here  it  comes,"  was  the  cry  passed  down  the  line. 

Slowly  and  with  stately  tread  the  head  of  the  procession 


98  RHESA 

approached  the  arch.  All  on  the  summit  leaned  forward,  ex- 
pectant, anxious  to  behold  every  detail.  Soon  the  first  ranks 
were  beneath  them.  What  an  ocean  of  melody  floated  up  to 
the  fair  onlookers!  The  band  that  led  the  vast  pageant  was 
the  grandest  ever  seen  or  heard  in  Babylon.  It  was  composed 
of  three  hundred  men,  divided  into  ten  ranks  of  thirty  men 
each.  At  the  head  marched  the  leader,  carrying  a  simple  wand 
of  palm  wood,  tipped  at  either  extremity  with  a  silver  orna- 
ment and  which  he  waved  from  side  to  side  to  keep  the  players 
in  time.  Following  closely  upon  the  leader  was  a  platoon  of 
thirty  drummers  pounding  upon  their  diminutive  instruments 
with  their  finger  tips  and  knuckles.  Their  time  was  perfect, 
each  player  in  absolute  unison  with  his  neighbor. 

The  second  rank  of  musicians  carried  an  instrument  called 
a  dulcimer  which  was  fastened  to  the  player  by  a  strap  passing 
around  his  waist.  The  instrument  consisted  of  a  wooden  frame 
over  which  ten  strings  of  varying  size  were  stretched.  Each 
player  beat  upon  the  dulcimer  with  a  small  metal  hammer  car- 
ried in  the  right  hand,  while  with  his  left  hand  he  fingered  the 
strings.  Notwithstanding  the  utter  dissimilarity  of  the  drums 
and  dulcimers  their  music  was  by  no  means  displeasing  to  the 
ear,  accentuated  as  it  was  by  the  cymbals  of  the  third  platoon. 

The  fourth  and  fifth  platoons  followed  at  a  considerable 
distance,  possibly  for  harmony's  sake,  the  sweet  tones  of  the 
single  and  double  pipes  being  liable  to  suffer  from  the  din  pre- 
ceding them.  The  five  remaining  platoons  were  composed  of 
players  upon  various  forms  of  string  instruments  such  as  harps 
and  lyres.  Thus  the  new  king  was  preceded  by  the  most  re- 
markable band  of  musicians  the  world  of  that  day  could  furnish. 
The  harmony  existing  between  the  various  styles  of  instruments 
was  surprising,  the  tones  of  drum,  dulcimer,  cymbal,  pipe  and 
harp  floating  up  to  the  women  in  one  vast  rolling  wave  of  soul- 
inspiring  melody.  Even  the  saddest  heart  among  them  could 
but  be  warmed  by  the  subtle  influence  of  the  stirring  music. 

It  was  not  until  the  last  musician  had  passed  beneath  the  arch 
that  Halista  raised  her  eyes  to  behold  the  next  attraction  of  the 


THE  GREAT  PROCESSION  99 

parade.  The  loud  cheers  of  the  populace  drew  attention  to  it. 
Halfsta  looked  up  in  time  to  gaze  full  upon  the  person  of  Na- 
bomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard.  The  young  chieftain  was 
mounted  upon  his  beloved  Saru  who  pranced  and  curvetted  in 
the  very  height  of  equine  pride.  Nabomuran  was  simply  clad. 
His  dress  and  arms  were  only  those  his  rank  required.  He 
glanced  up  at  the  arch  and  as  his  eye  rested  upon  Halista,  he 
lifted  his  helmet  gracefully  and  made  a  profound  bow.  A  smile 
came  over  the  sweet  features  of  the  king's  niece  and  she  bowed 
slightly  in  acknowledgment  of  the  soldier's  courtesy. 

Immediately  following  their  commander  rode  the  first  bat- 
talion of  the  Winged  Lions,  two  platoons  of  fifteen  men  each. 
Their  appearance  was  in  keeping  with  their  fame.  They  were 
fully  armed,  their  polished  helmets  glistening  in  the  sun.  Their 
bows  and  quivers  were  strapped  upon  their  backs  and  in  their 
hands  they  carried  long  spears  surmounted  by  bright  bronze 
heads.  Their  horses  were  decorated  in  the  most  sumptuous  man- 
ner, their  headgears,  breast  straps  and  saddle  cloths  all  em- 
broidered lavishly.  The  troopers  were  the  heroes  of  the  day. 
The  events  of  the  preceding  night  were  rapidly  becoming  known 
and  the  people  received  the  victors  with  loud  acclamations.  The 
carriage  of  the  soldiers  was  perfect.  They  sat  straight  and 
rigid  upon  their  horses,  restraining  and  guiding  their  steeds  with 
the  left  hand  while  the  right  held  the  spear  aloft. 

The  troopers  passed  through  the  arch,  wheeling  into  columns 
of  five  in  order  to  do  so.  Then  the  next  following  body  be- 
came the  object  of  interest.  This  was  a  company  of  spearmen 
divided  into  four  ranks  of  twenty-five  men  each.  Silently  and 
decorously  they  marched  along,  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor 
the  left.  Their  soldierly  bearing  called  forth  fresh  cheers  from 
the  spectators.  A  hundred  bowmen  followed  and  then  the 
hushed  expectancy  of  the  multitude  proclaimed  the  approach  of 
some  new  object  of  interest.  In  an  instant  the  quiet  gave  way 
to  loud  bursts  of  applause  as  six  milk-white  horses,  gay  in  their 
costly  trappings,  came  into  view.  They  stepped  softly  as  if 
realizing  their  proud  position.  The  golden  trimmings  of  their 


ioo  RHESA 

harnesses  glistened  and  shone ;  the  tinkle  of  the  tiny  bridle  bells 
made  sweet  music  upon  the  air.  The  attendants,  one  for  each 
pair  of  horses,  marched  on  the  left.  From  between  the  leaders 
projected  the  end  of  the  jointed  chariot  pole,  carved  into  a  sem- 
blance of  a  lion's  head.  The  crossbar  was  also  carved  and  was 
adorned  with  trimmings  of  gilt.  Then  came  the  chariot  itself, 
literally  covered  with  gold,  its  heavy  wheels  rumbling  upon  the 
hard  pavement.  The  charioteer,  tall  and  muscular  held  the  lines 
firmly  in  his  grasp.  He  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  his 
gaze  fixed  upon  his  mettlesome  chargers.  Behind  him,  clad  in 
all  the  magnificence  man  could  imagine,  his  precious  head 
shielded  from  the  sun's  rays  by  a  huge  gorgeous  umbrella,  stood 
Nabonidos,  king  of  Babylon.  To-day  an  expression  of  mingled 
pride  and  satisfaction  displaced  the  usual  look  of  languor  and 
effeminacy  upon  the  monarch's  face.  From  the  moment  his 
chariot  had  passed  through  the  palace  gates  he  had  received  an 
ovation  sufficient  to  gratify  the  most  exacting  tyrant.  He  bowed 
to  either  side  as  he  rode  along,  seeking  to  gain  the  hearts  of  his 
subjects  by  his  graciousness.  The  day  was  planned  for  this  pur- 
pose and  the  king  was  determined  to  achieve  his  object.  He  too 
uncovered,  removing  his  golden  helmet,  and  bowed  to  the  beauty 
bower  above  his  head. 

A  second  chariot  followed  that  of  Nabonidos.  It  was  an 
exact  duplicate  of  the  first,  horses,  harness,  attendants  and  all. 
Belshazzar,  the  youthful  occupant,  elicited  as  much  enthusiasm 
as  his  father.  If  anything  the  ovation  given  him  was  the  greater. 
The  people  shouted  themselves  hoarse  in  his  honor,  striving  to 
make  known  their  allegiance.  Belshazzar's  face  wore  a  proud 
smile  as  he  bowed  in  acknowledgment  of  their  shouts.  While 
the  king  had  worn  a  helmet  of  beaten  gold,  inlaid  with  gems,  his 
son  stood  bareheaded  in  token  of  his  present  uncrowned  state. 
His  long  dark  locks  hung  loosely  about  his  shoulders.  The 
boy's  usually  dull  face  was  lighted  up  with  an  expression  of  joy 
and  pride,  transforming  him  for  the  moment  into  a  man  and  a 
king. 

As  the  young  prince  was  about  to  pass  beneath  the  arch  a 


THE  GREAT  PROCESSION  101 

beautiful  surprise  was  sprung  in  his  honor.  Like  the  arch  and 
all  pertaining  to  it,  this  was  the  conception  of  Queen  Nitocris. 
At  the  moment  Belshazzar's  chariot  passed  into  the  arch  num- 
erous small  windows  all  over  the  building  were  opened  and 
from  each  a  tiny  maid,  clothed  in  white  gauze,  was  lowered  by 
a  slave.  The  silken  ropes  that  sustained  them,  while  of  suffi- 
cient strength  to  prevent  accident,  were  so  slight  as  to  be  practi- 
cally invisible  to  the  throngs  below.  The  effect  of  this  appari- 
tion was  beautiful  in  the  extreme.  Belshazzar  glanced  up  and 
a  smile  of  pleasure  overspread  his  features.  As  he  looked  up  a 
shower  of  the  most  beautiful  flowers  came  pouring  down  upon 
him  and  the  tiny  elves  chanted  a  chorus  of  welcome  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  harps  played  by  unseen  hands  within  the  arch. 

The  people  were  so  impressed  with  the  beautiful  spectacle 
that  they  gazed  in  silence.  To  them  it  really  looked  as  if  the 
children  were  floating  in  space.  Immediately  after  Belshazzar 
had  passed  the  children  were  slowly  drawn  up  toward  the  win- 
dows and  finally  disappeared  within  the  building.  Following  the 
chariot  of  the  prince  came  the  duplicate  of  the  guard  preceding 
his  father,  only  in  reversed  order.  First  came  the  bowmen,  then 
the  spearmen  and  then  the  second  battalion  of  the  Winged 
Lions. 

The  applause  called  forth  by  Nabomuran  and  the  first  bat- 
talion of  his  command  only  slightly  exceeded  that  given  Belibus 
and  the  second.  The  lieutenant  was  the  hero  of  the  previous 
night's  fight  and  his  appearance  elicited  storms  of  applause,  his 
name  being  called  among  the  cheers.  The  second  battalion  was 
an  exact  duplicate  of  the  first. 

From  the  arch  there  now  stretched  away  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  see,  a  long  line  of  gaudy  chariots,  two  abreast,  drawn  by 
stout  and  gaily  caparisoned  horses.  They  contained  the  nobles 
of  the  court;  the  high  officers  of  the  empire.  So  long  was  this 
portion  of  the  procession  that  it  would  have  proved  tedious  to 
the  spectators  but  for  the  pleasure  of  naming  the  individuals  as 
they  passed.  The  first  brace  of  chariots  contained  Vulmaran, 
chief  councillor  of  the  empire  and  Neboakhu,  chief  priest  of 


102  RHESA 

Bel.  It  was  usually  acknowledged  that  the  latter  ranked  next 
the  king  but  as  a  matter  of  etiquette  the  rab  mag  was  placed 
upon  a  level  with  him. 

Rank  after  rank  they  passed,  vehicles  and  men  replendent  in 
all  the  magnificence  known  to  their  day.  The  brilliant  colors 
of  the  men's  apparel  and  the  brightness  of  their  armor  gave  to 
this  portion  of  the  parade  a  kaleidoscopic  effect  beautiful  to  be- 
hold. However,  too  much  brilliance  is  tiring  to  the  eyes  and  it 
was  a  relief  to  the  throngs  when  the  last  chariot  rattled  past  and 
the  first  ranks  of  white-robed  priests  came  into  view.  Clad  in 
their  flowing  robes,  their  degrees  shown  by  the  number  of 
flounces  upon  their  skirts,  they  filed  slowly  by,  their  long  lines 
reaching  completely  across  the  broad  street. 

The  last  line  of  priests  at  length  passed  through  the  arch  and 
the  last  but  largest  division  came  into  view.  In  platoons  of 
twenty-four  men  abreast  they  reached  far  into  the  distance. 
This  was  Babylon's  army,  spearmen,  bowmen  and  horsemen. 

Thus  ended  the  greatest  pageant  of  ancient  times. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  GODS 

Of  all  the  wonders  ancient  writers  ascribe  to  the  Chaldean 
capital  first  and  foremost  stands  the  great  temple  of  Bel.  Built 
in  eight  stages  one  placed  above  another,  its  golden  roofed  sum- 
mit was  several  hundred  feet  above  the  surrounding  grounds. 
Notwithstanding  the  destruction  by  conquerors  and  devastation 
of  the  elements,  the  ruins  of  this  wonderful  edifice  are  to-day 
more  than  six  hundred  feet  long  and  nearly  an  hundred  and 
fifty  in  height.  To  this  temple  we  now  repair  to  witness  the 
ceremony  of  coronation. 

Long  before  the  last  platoon  of  the  great  procession  reached 
the  arch,  the  foremost  ranks  arrived  at  the  base  of  the  temple. 
Musicians,  troopers  and  footmen  all  wheeled  off  to  the  west  to 


THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  GODS  103 

make  their  way  back  to  the  various  camping  places.  Only  a 
select  few  could  witness  the  ceremonies  in  the  shrine.  The  first 
man  to  enter  the  temple  enclosure  was  Nabomuran  who  rode 
through  the  great  bronze  gates,  leaving  his  battalion  to  make  its 
way  back  to  the  old  palace  without  a  leader.  He  remained 
alone  while  two  bodies  of  soldiery  following  the  Winged  Lions 
came  up  and  wheeled  off  to  the  west.  Then  the  gates  opened 
to  admit  the  chariots  of  Nabonidos  and  Belshazzar.  Nabomu- 
ran instantly  dismounted  and  advanced  bareheaded  to  meet 
them.  The  king  appeared  weary  but  he  received  the  soldier  most 
graciously. 

"All  is  successful  thus  far,"  he  said. 

"The  gods  smile  upon  our  new  king,"  said  the  soldier,  nod- 
ding at  Belshazzar. 

"It  augurs  for  me  a  prosperous  reign,"  exclaimed  the  boy 
joyously. 

"The  gods  grant  it,"  said  Nabomuran  solemnly. 

He  had  felt  strangely  oppressed  throughout  the  celebration, 
thus  far.  Some  mysterious  power  seemed  to  hold  him  in  its 
grasp.  Instead  of  being  joyous  when  all  about  him  were  cele- 
brating, he  had  been  sad.  As  a  lover  of  his  nation  he  felt  all 
connected  with  the  day  to  be  a  mistake,  but  in  addition  to  that 
feeling  he  had  a  strange  presentiment  that  he  personally  would 
have  reason  to  regret  the  prince's  elevation. 

Soon  the  gates  again  opened,  this  time  to  admit  the  chariots 
of  Vulmaran  and  Neboakhu.  Close  behind  them  came  those  of 
the  king's  councillors,  six  in  number.  Another  wait  and  then 
the  first  of  the  long  lines  of  white-robed  priests  reached  the 
temple.  After  the  last  priest  had  entered  the  enclosure  the  sol- 
diers on  guard  shut  and  barred  the  great  gates.  No  more  of 
the  ceremony  was  to  be  seen  by  the  populace. 

A  procession  was  quickly  formed,  led  by  eight  priests  playing 
upon  harps.  Following  them  were  eight  singing  priests.  Na- 
boakhu  came  next  carrying  a  golden  censer  filled  with  burning 
incense  whose  aromatic  smoke  floated  back  over  the  heads  of 
those  following  him.  Then  came  Nabonidos  with  Belshazzar 


104  RHESA 

but  a  foot  behind  him.  Vulmaran  and  the  council  followed 
Belshazzar,  and  Nabomuran  brought  up  the  rear.  The  line 
formed,  the  priests  struck  up  a  solemn  chant  and  with  slow  steps 
they  began  the  laborious  ascent  of  the  temple. 

Round  and  round  the  huge  pile  of  masonry  wound  the  pro- 
cession, moving  slowly  and  solemnly,  yet  ever  mounting  higher. 
All  heads  were  bowed.  Their  sandaled  feet  made  no  sound 
upon  the  hard  brick  pavement  of  the  inclined  plane.  Only 
the  sweet  tones  of  the  harps,  the  sleepy  chanting  of  the  priests 
and  the  soft  tinkle  of  the  golden  chains  holding  Neboakhu's 
swinging  censer,  broke  the  stillness.  The  deep  solemnity  of  the 
occasion  made  an  impression  upon  the  minds  of  all,  a  mingled  ex- 
pression of  awe  and  veneration  covering  their  faces. 

Just  half  way  from  the  pavement  to  the  shrine  they  stopped 
while  Neboakhu  and  Belshazzar  entered  a  small  chapel  to  make 
a  sacrifice  unto  the  gods.  The  innocent  life  of  a  sucking  kid 
was  offered  up  upon  the  golden  altar  that  its  pure  blood  might 
win  the  valued  smiles  of  Merodach  for  the  new  king.  Nearly 
a  half-hour  was  thus  consumed,  a  tedious  time  of  waiting  for 
those  without  the  chapel.  At  length  the  pair  emerged  and  took 
their  former  places  in  the  company.  They  again  mounted 
slowly,  solemnly,  preceded  by  the  monotonous  music  and  sweet 
incense. 

Onward,  upward  in  gradually  decreasing  circles  they  toiled 
until  at  last  they  halted  upon  the  broad  level  platform  of  the 
topmost  stage,  before  the  entrance  to  the  wonderful  golden 
roofed  shrine.  They  stood  some  moments  before  entering  this 
Sanctum  Sanctorum  of  Chaldean  religion.  The  panorama 
spread  out  at  their  feet  was  well  worth  the  long  and  tiresome 
climb  to  behold. 

Off  to  the  northwest  stretched  the  great  plain,  now  used  as  a 
camp  for  the  vast  bodies  of  soldiery  attendant  upon  the  cere- 
monies of  the  coronation.  As  the  members  of  Belshazzar's 
retinue  looked  down  they  could  see  a  long  line  of  troops,  the 
rear  of  the  great  procession,  from  this  height  appearing  as  a 
single  black  mark,  marching  toward  the  camp.  Thin  vapory 


THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  GODS  105 

columns  of  smoke  rising  from  all  parts  of  the  vast  plain  bespoke 
the  approaching  dinner  hour.  An  army  of  cooks  was  engaged 
in  roasting  fat  bullocks  for  the  feasting  of  the  troops. 

Away  toward  the  south  stretched  the  long  straight  streets  of 
the  Golden  City,  lined  on  either  side  with  stately  buildings, 
beautiful  gardens  and  occasionally  fields  of  waving  grain.  Far 
beyond  in  the  distance  rose  the  comparatively  low  rampart  of 
the  inner  wall,  while  still  farther  away  the  enormous  outer  wall 
reared  its  stupendous  bulk  as  a  vast  artificial  mountain.  The 
glimmer  of  the  noonday  sun  upon  the  placid  waters  of  the  great 
reservoir  glanced  up  at  them,  a  dazzling  sight.  The  tall  trees 
of  the  wonderful  Hanging  Gardens  cast  a  slight  shade  over  one 
portion  of  the  glittering  expanse  of  water.  West  of  the  tem- 
ple the  imprisoned  Euphrates  flowed  silently  but  swiftly  between 
its  sombre  banks  of  burnt  brick,  drawn  irresistibly  onward 
toward  its  final  destination.  On  either  side  of  the  great  river 
rose  the  walls  and  towers  of  the  palaces,  the  one  occupied  by 
the  royal  household  and  the  other  by  the  king's  guard.  Baby- 
lon from  this  height  seemed  indeed  a  golden  city,  bathed  as  it 
was  in  the  yellow  rays  of  the  noonday  sun. 

The  participants  in  the  coronation  ceremonies  had  but  a 
moment  to  enjoy  the  rarely  beautiful  scene  beneath  them.  Ne- 
boakhu,  who  had  entered  the  shrine  the  moment  they  reached 
the  summit,  now  returned  and  with  a  wave  of  his  long  right 
arm  motioned  them  to  enter. 

Two  priests  held  back  the  heavy  and  costly  draperies  that 
screened  the  entrance  and  the  company  filed  in.  The  sight 
within  the  shrine  was  one  of  greatest  grandeur  and  magnifi- 
cence. Gold  wras  used  lavishly  in  the  decoration  of  this  won- 
derful place  of  worship.  It  glistened  from  every  portion  of  the 
room.  Even  the  nails  that  fastened  the  boards  of  the  polished 
floor  to  the  timbers,  had  golden  heads.  The  walls  on  three 
sides  were  hung  with  the  richest  draperies  the  world  produced. 
They  were  hung  from  golden  rods  while  long  tassels  of  gold 
cord  adorned  their  tops.  The  climax  of  Oriental  magnificence 
was  reached  in  the  ceiling.  This  was  a  mosaic  of  incalculable 


106  RHESA 

value  composed  entirely  of  precious  stones  set  in  patterns.  Agates, 
beryls,  sards,  amethysts  and  in  fact  all  the  stones  known  at  that 
day  were  mingled  in  a  grand  scintillating  mass  of  ever-changing 
color.  In  the  very  center  of  the  ceiling,  in  a  setting  of  pure 
gold,  was  the  pride  of  the  collection,  the  Indian  stone,  as  it  was 
called.  It  was  undoubtedly  a  diamond  of  rare  weight  and 
beauty.  It  was  the  only  specimen  known  in  the  city  and  was 
greatly  valued  by  the  people,  who  assigned  to  it  many  wonder- 
ful powers  and  bestowed  upon  it  several  poetical  names,  such  as 
the  Eye  of  Bel. 

Directly  across  the  shrine  from  the  entrance  door,  heavy  cur- 
tains hid  the  eastern  portion  of  the  interior  from  the  present  com- 
pany. Directly  in  front  of  the  curtains  was  a  huge  golden  table, 
forty  feet  long  and  fifteen  broad,  upon  which  stood  two  beau- 
tiful drinking  cups  of  pure  gold,  each  weighing  thirty  talents. 
Between  the  table  and  the  curtains  extended  a  railing  of  gold, 
the  middle  section  removable  to  permit  the  entrance  of  such 
privileged  persons  as  were  allowed  within  the  hidden  space. 

Neboakhu  approached  the  table  with  slow  step  and  solemn 
air,  his  head  bowed  and  his  hands  crossed  before  him.  At  his 
command  Belshazzar  removed  his  sandals.  The  young  prince 
was  now  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  chief  priest  and  must  obey 
his  every  order.  He  approached  the  table  and  knelt  beside  it. 
The  chief  priest  took  a  small  goblet  of  pure  gold  and  of  finest 
workmanship  and,  after  dipping  it  into  one  of  the  mammoth 
vessels  upon  the  table,  handed  it  to  Belshazzar  who  drank  its 
contents  slowly  and  reverently.  The  great  solemnity  and 
grandeur  of  the  ceremonies  he  was  about  to  pass  through  awed 
the  lad  and  lifted  his  soul  above  the  level  of  personal  pride  and 
vanity  upon  which  he  had  been  living  throughout  the  earlier 
portion  of  the  day. 

"My  son,"  said  the  old  priest  solemnly,  "thou  hast  now  drunk 
of  the  sacred  wine  of  the  temple,  which  is  to  purify  the  thoughts 
of  thy  mind  and  fitly  prepare  thy  heart  for  the  solemn  cere- 
monies thou  art  about  to  pass  through.  Arise  and  follow  me." 

One  of  the  lesser  priests  removed  the  section  of  railing  and 


THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  GODS 


107 


unseen  hands  opened  the  curtain  sufficiently  to  permit  the  en 
trance  of  the  priest  and  Belshazzar.     Immediately  they  were 
closed  again,  separating  the  remainder  of  the  company  from  the 
pair.     The  hidden  mysteries  were  now  to  be  revealed  to  the 
boy.     For  at  least  half  an  hour  they  remained  shut  in  behind 
the  curtains.     Finally  the  draperies  were  slowly  pushed  aside 
revealing  to  the  entire  company  the  contents  of  the  Inner  Cham- 
ber. 

Upon  a  raised  platform  at  the  rear  of  the  curtained  space 
stood  three  golden  statues,  all  of  heroic  size.  The  central 
figure  towered  above  its  neighbors  and  was  of  finer  workman- 
ship, as  was  its  due,  for  the  colossal  form  of  gold  was  the 
earthly  representation  of  the  great  god,  Bel  or  Belus,  in  whose 
honor  this  vast  pile  of  masonry  had  been  raised.  To  him  of 
all  other  deities  the  people  of  the  Golden  City  gave  their  alle- 
giance. The  other  statues  represented,  the  one  on  the  right 
Bel  s  consort  Beltis,  and  the  one  on  the  left  Ishtar,  who  corre- 
sponds to  the  Venus  of  the  Greeks. 

On  either  side  of  the  great  figure  of  Beltis  stood  an  immense 
golden  lion  and  next  each  lion  a  serpent  of  solid  silver  raised 
its  ugly  head.  Directly  beside  each  image  stood  a  golden  bowl 
and  upon  each  end  of  the  raised  platform  stood  an  enormous 
golden  censer.  Both  the  latter  were  now  filled  with  burning 
incense  whose  perfumed  smoke  filled  the  confined  space  almost 
to  suffocation. 

Kneeling  upon  a  golden  stool  directly  before  the  statue  of  Bel 
was  Belshazzar,  not  yet  king  but  about  to  be  anointed  While 
he  remained  in  this  position  his  father,  Nabonidos,  approached 
bareheaded  and  barefooted  and  with  eyes  uplifted  to  the  face 
of  Bel,  made  the  following  declaration : 

"I,  Nabonidos,  servant  of  Bel  and  Merodach  and  by  their 
favor  king  of  Babylon,  do  in  this  sacred  place  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  these  witnesses  affirm  and  declare:  That  I  willingly  and 
joyfully  bestow  upon  this,  my  well-beloved  son,  Belshazzar  the 
half  of  my  kingdom  and  my  throne.  In  so  doing  I  solemnly  ad- 
jure him  to  always  reverence  the  great  gods,  by  whose  favor  our 


io8  RHESA 

kingdom  is  great;  to  rule  with  justice,  punishing  all  who  dis- 
obey his  mandates,  yet  showing  mercy  unto  all  who  deserve  it; 
to  guard  well  the  treasures  of  the  temple;  to  defend  the  land 
against  our  foes;  to  uphold  and  protect  the  people,  remem- 
bering always  that  his  great  honor  is  also  his  great  responsi- 
bility." 

Nabonidos  then  stepped  back  a  few  feet.  Acting  under  the 
chief  priest's  orders  Belshazzar  now  arose  and  approached  the 
great  statue  of  Bel.  Clasping  the  feet  of  the  image  with  both 
arms,  he  rested  his  head  thereon.  Thus  prostrate  before  his 
god  he  was  in  due  position  to  be  made  king,  but  before  being 
anointed  it  was  necessary  that  he  make  oath  to  properly  perform 
his  duties.  Therefore  Neboakhu  told  him  the  oath,  phrase  by 
phrase,  the  boy  repeating  each  after  the  priest. 

"I,  Belshazzar,  son  of  Nabonidos  king  of  Babylon,  prostrated 
before  my  master  Bel,  lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  do  now  make 
solemn  oath. 

"As  king  of  Babylon  I  will  give  devotion  to  the  great  gods 
and  command  my  people  to  do  likewise.  I  will  honor  and  sup- 
port the  priesthood ;  guard  well  the  treasures  of  the  temple ;  heed 
the  advice  of  my  counsellors;  sustain  schools  for  the  instruction 
of  the  people;  punish  the  wicked  and  reward  the  just. 

"I  will  always  recognize  and  obey  the  commands  of  the  gods. 
I  will  repair  and  build  temples,  causing  sacrifice  to  be  made  at 
all  times  to  satisfy  the  gods. 

"I  will  defend  the  land  against  foreign  foes  and  domestic 
traitors.  I  will  maintain  an  army  to  defend  our  land  and  will 
honor  its  officers  as  our  defenders." 

All  this  and  much  more  after  the  same  style  the  youth  will- 
ingly swore  to.  The  oath  administered,  all  that  remained  was 
the  anointing,  crowning  and  blessing.  Neboakhu  held  aloft  over 
his  head  a  golden  cup  holding  a  small  quantity  of  perfumed 
oil,  which  had  remained  beside  the  image  of  Bel  for  eight  and 
forty  hours  that  the  god  might  bless  it  and  render  it  potent. 
He  slowly  turned  the  cup  until  the  liquid  was  upon  the  very 


THE  BLESSING  OF  THE  GODS  109 

edge.    Then  as  the  oil  ran  over  and  trickled  down  upon  the  lad's 
head,  he  repeated: 

"With  this  pure  oil  I  anoint  thee  king  of  Babylon." 

Now  lifting  a  golden  chaplet  set  with  gems,  the  priest  pressed 
it  down  upon  the  prince's  head,  exclaiming  as  he  did  so: 

"Arise,  O  King,  and  do  thine  homage  to  Bel  who  gives  thee 
power." 

Belshazzar  arose  and  prostrated  himself  thrice  before  the 
idol.  He  then  stood  upright  with  folded  arms  waiting  to  re- 
ceive the  final  blessing  from  the  chief  priest.  With  that  blessing 
the  ceremony  would  be  completed  and  Belshazzar  would  be 
ready  to  receive  the  homage  of  his  people.  Neboakhu  stood  be- 
side the  image  of  Bel  motionless,  looking  into  space.  Seconds 
drifted  into  minutes  and  still  the  old  priest  remained  silent.  It 
was  becoming  painful,  oppressive.  Nabonidos,  thinking  the  old 
man  had  forgotten  his  part  at  length  said: 

"It  is  now  thy  duty  as  chief  priest  to  give  the  blessing  of 
the  gods  to  the  new  king." 

The  venerable  chief  priest,  tall  and  majestic  at  all  times, 
drew  himself  to  his  fullest  height  and  with  arms  folded  across 
his  breast,  gazed  resolutely  and  fearlessly  into  his  monarch's 
face.  He  spoke  in  low,  stern  tones,  as  he  said: 

"I  cannot." 

"Thou  refusest  unto  my  son  the  blessing  of  the  gods?"  ex- 
claimed Nabonidos,  too  surprised  for  the  moment  to  be  angry. 

"I  refuse,"  answered  the  priest. 

"What  reason  hast  thou  for  such  action?"  asked  the  king. 

"Because,"  said  the  priest,  pointing  dramatically  to  Belshaz- 
zar, "thy  son  is  not  the  lawful  occupant  of  the  Babylonish 
throne.  Sheshbazzar,  the  son  of  the  murdered  Evil-Merodach 
lives  and  is  now  grown  to  manhood.  He  is  by  birth  entitled  to 
reign  as  our  king  and  upon  him  only  can  the  blessing  descend." 

The  king  turned  ghastly  white  and  clutched  at  the  golden 
railing  for  support.  Again  he  was  a  victim  of  his  terrible  mis- 
givings, which  had  been  with  him  from  the  moment  he  decided 
to  raise  his  son  to  the  kingly  rank.  Sheshbazzar!  The  name 


i  io  RHESA 

was  a  terror  unto  him  and  had  been  throughout  all  the  years 
of  his  reign.  Now  to  hear  from  the  lips  of  so  powerful  a  man 
as  Neboakhu  that  this  dreaded  rival  lived,  seemed  a  knell  to  all 
his  ambitions.  Against  the  priest,  for  the  time  being  at  least, 
he  felt  no  enmity.  Always  the  most  superstitious  of  men,  Na- 
bonidos  feared  this  man  as  he  feared  no  other  on  earth.  Ne- 
boakhu, from  his  long  years  of  study  had  become  an  adept  at 
that  magic  so  universally  respected  throughout  the  East. 
Nabonidos  could  not  for  a  moment  entertain  thoughts  of  re- 
venge against  this  powerful  priest  whose  bidding  the  very  ele- 
ments seemed  to  obey. 

The  old  priest's  rebellion  brought  consternation  to  another 
beside  the  king.  Nabomuran,  standing  well  to  the  rear  of  the 
company,  heard  his  father's  words  and  instantly  there  came  into 
his  mind  the  story  related  by  Rastagus  upon  the  desert  and  the 
vow  then  made.  Tumultuous  thoughts  struggled  within  the 
young  man's  mind.  To  be  faithful  to  his  vow  meant  rebellion 
to  his  king  and  Nabonidos  had  always  been  kind  to  him.  Yet 
his  venerable  father  whom  he  loved  and  revered  had  refused  to 
acknowledge  Belshazzar,  and  should  he  fear  to  follow  in  that 
noble  man's  footsteps? 

Belshazzar,  bewildered,  stood  looking  absently  first  at  his 
father  and  then  at  the  priest.  The  boy  knew  not  the  meaning 
of  the  act.  Even  the  noblemen,  the  privy  council,  stood  as  men 
spell-bound,  not  knowing  what  to  say  or  do.  Vulmaran  alone 
had  presence  of  mind. 

"What  matters  it,  O  King,  if  an  old  man,  the  weight  of 
whose  years  has  already  turned  his  brain,  crosses  thee?"  he  said. 
"See,  my  sword  is  here.  Say  but  the  word  and  the  blood  of  the 
doting  priest  shall  be  a  fit  sacrifice  with  which  to  welcome  a 
new  king." 

Neboakhu  looked  upon  the  bully,  a  contemptuous  smile  upon 
his  thin  expressive  lips.  The  power  of  the  will  behind  that 
glance  momentarily  silenced  the  rab  mag. 

"As  chief  priest  of  Bel,  I  command  all  to  leave  this  place !" 
cried  the  old  man. 


THE  INAUGURAL  BANQUET  m 

His  commanding  manner  awed  them  for  a  moment  and  in- 
voluntarily all  took  a  step  backward.  That  was  sufficient.  The 
great  curtains  swiftly  but  noiselessly  slid  along  the  golden  rods, 
separating  the  priest  from  the  company.  The  nobles,  ashamed  of 
their  weakness,  grasped  their  swords  and  sprang  forward,  Vul- 
maran  in  the  lead.  The  moment  the  rab  mag  stepped  within 
the  curtains  he  gave  a  scream  of  anguish  and  fell  to  the  floor. 
Another  nobleman  took  him  by  the  arm  to  raise  him,  and  he 
too  screamed.  The  rest  hesitated  and  stopped.  The  unseen 
priest  had  called  to  his  aid  a  mighty  power  whose  existence  was 
known  only  to  him  and  died  with  him  to  remain  buried  for 
centuries.  Only,  years  afterward,  some  priests  in  the  temple 
removed  a  copper  plate  that  was  embedded  in  the  floor  just  inside 
the  curtains  and  found  beneath  it  some  curious  apparatus  con- 
nected to  the  plate  by  rods  of  copper. 

One  by  one  the  nobles  advanced  and  bowed  upon  their  knees 
before  Belshazzar,  swearing  allegiance  unto  him.  All  save 
one !  One  member  of  the  party  stayed  not  to  do  homage.  In 
the  confusion  Nabomuran  had  slipped  out  and  hurried  away. 
Soon  the  entire  party  left  the  shrine  and  began  their  long  de- 
scent. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  INAUGURAL   BANQUET 

It  is  indeed  unfortunate  that  the  ruthless  destruction  of  con- 
querors and  the  fury  of  the  elements  have  left  us  so  few  re- 
mains of  Babylon's  magnificent  palaces.  With  what  joy  would 
the  student  walk  through  their  stately  halls  and  apartments, 
feeling  himself  in  the  presence  of  the  great  men  and  women 
who,  twenty-five  centuries  ago,  lived  here  in  the  flesh.  In  tread- 
ing their  pavements  one  could  almost  see  Nebuchadnezzar  and 
his  beautiful  queen  Amytis;  in  imagination  he  would  see  Daniel 
standing  in  the  great  reception  room  explaining  to  the  con- 


ii2  RHESA 

queror  his  dreams,  the  Chaldeans  standing  impotently  by,  gazing 
at  the  youthful  Hebrew  with  jealous  eyes.  One  could  look  out 
of  a  window  and  in  his  imagination  see  in  the  garden  below 
Babylon's  great  ruler  crawling  upon  all  fours,  nibbling  at 
the  grass  and  shrubbery.  One  could  visit  the  great  banquet 
hall  and  seem  to  see  an  uncanny  hand  as  it  moved  slowly  across 
the  wall,  tracing  words  of  fate,  words  whose  terrible  meaning 
came  true  within  the  hour. 

Isaiah  foretold  that  "the  glory  of  kingdoms,  the  beauty  of 
the  Chaldees'  excellency,  shall  be  as  when  God  overthrew 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah,"  and  the  accounts  of  modern  explorers 
prove  the  message  of  the  old  prophet  to  have  been  inspired. 
Babylon  is  literally  "heaps"  and  such  excavating  as  has  been, 
done  fails  to  throw  much  light  upon  the  buildings  of  the 
Golden  City.  From  the  accounts  handed  down  to  us  by  the 
Jewish  and  Greek  writers,  however,  we  may  believe  the  palaces 
to  have  been  magnificent,  particularly  the  one  used  as  a  royal 
residence  at  the  time  of  our  tale.  With  this  as  a  foundation 
stone,  it  is  left  to  the  romancer  to  erect  thereon  a  building  of 
his  own  creation,  but  fancy  is  at  best  a  poor  substitute  for 
fact. 

The  day  just  closing,  the  one  supreme  day  in  the  life  of  Bel- 
shazzar  the  boy  king  of  Babylon,  was  to  witness  one  more 
event  in  the  coronation  ceremonies,  the  great  banquet  in  the 
palace.  Drunkenness  and  lasciviousness,  twin  vices,  sons  of 
Death,  were  this  night  to  hold  sway.  The  two  evils,  not  the 
two  kings,  were  sovereigns  this  night,  and  not  in  the  palace 
alone  but  throughout  the  city,  for  the  great  banquet  would  have 
an  hundred  imitations  in  buildings  less  pretentious.  When 
Babylon  celebrated  all  else  was  forgotten  and  from  king  to  slave 
all  rolled  in  revelry. 

For  several  days  past  vast  preparations  had  been  in  progress, 
all  having  as  an  object  the  filling  of  noble  stomachs.  An  im- 
mense retinue  had  been  engaged  in  preparing  all  manners  of 
food  and  drink.  Quantities  of  game  and  fruit  had  been  arriv- 
ing in  the  city  for  two  or  three  days  past.  All  varieties  of 


THE  INAUGURAL  BANQUET  113 

beast,  bird  and  fish  to  be  found  in  or  near  the  valleys  of  the 
Euphrates  and  Tigris  were  on  hand  in  prodigal  abundance. 
Large  skin  bottles  of  grape  wine  brought  all  the  way  from  the 
sunny  slopes  of  Armenia  were  piled  high  in  the  vaults  beneath 
the  palace.  All  butchering  and  dressing  had  been  done  without 
the  city  walls  and  the  meat  delivered  at  the  palace  kitchens 
ready  for  the  fire. 

One  entire  corner  of  the  building  was  given  up  to  the  culin- 
ary department  of  the  royal  establishment.  Here  an  army  of 
cooks,  bakers  and  confectioners  vied  with  one  another  to  see 
who  could  best  tickle  the  palates  of  kings  and  nobles. 

Within  the  palace  another  force  had  been  engaged  in  dec- 
orating and  making  ready  the  banquet  hall.  No  stone  was 
left  unturned  that  would  make  this  banquet  a  landmark  in  the 
history  of  such  events.  The  scene  at  the  palace  differed  from 
that  in  an  hundred  other  places  in  stupendousness  alone.  All 
over  the  city  other  cooks  prepared  feasts  for  the  stomachs  of 
lesser  men. 

By  the  time  darkness  had  settled  down  upon  the  city  the 
guests  began  to  arrive.  The  scene  at  the  palace  entrance  was 
one  of  the  greatest  animation  and  beauty.  Gaily  decorated 
chariots,  drawn  by  prancing  horses,  passed  through  the  three 
gates,  wide  open  to-night,  in  a  continuous  stream.  One  by  one 
they  rolled  up  the  inclined  plane  to  the  top  of  the  palace  mound 
and  deposited  their  gorgeously  attired  occupants  at  the  great 
arched  doorway  of  the  building.  Here  a  long  line  of  care- 
fully selected  servants  awaited  the  guests.  As  a  man  entered 
the  major-domo  of  the  palace  examined  his  credentials  and, 
finding  him  worthy  to  sit  at  meat  with  royalty,  handed  him  over 
to  a  servant  who  attended  him. 

Only  a  few  moments  before  the  hour  set  for  the  banquet, 
the  simple  chariot  of  Nabomuran  drew  up  before  the  entrance 
and  the  young  commander  alighted.  He  was  passed  by  the 
officer  and  given  into  the  charge  of  a  servant  who  led  him  into 
a  small  apartment  opening  out  of  the  banquet  hall  and  assisted 


u4  RHESA 

him  in  arranging  his  attire.  A  moment  later  his  attendant 
ushered  him  into  the  great  hall  itself. 

The  scene  that  met  his  gaze  was  one  of  great  brilliancy  and 
beauty.  The  vast  apartment,  forty  feet  broad  and  one  hun- 
dred feet  in  length,  was  one  mass  of  light  and  color.  Through 
the  center  of  the  hall  ran  the  banquet  table,  its  golden  and  silver 
vessels  reflecting  the  light  from  a  thousand  lamps.  Upon  their 
shining  surfaces  the  rays  danced  and  shone  as  from  a  myriad 
of  gems.  Beautiful  flowers  in  great  abundance  were  heaped  up 
in  pyramids  upon  the  table  and  scattered  about  in  every  con- 
ceivable space.  All  that  man's  skill  could  do  had  been  done 
toward  adorning  the  hall.  Nabomuran  stopped  on  the  thresh- 
old and  gazed  in  admiration  upon  the  scene  before  him.  He 
was  one  of  the  late  arrivals,  and  the  hall  was  now  crowded 
with  men,  some  moving  about  and  others  standing  in  groups,  all 
anxiously  awaiting  the  serving  of  the  feast. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  hall  upon  a  raised  platform  stood 
two  thrones,  both  constructed  on  the  same  elaborate  plan  and 
both  ornamented  in  the  same  manner.  Here  side  by  side  sat 
the  two  kings  of  Babylon.  Directly  in  front  of  them  at  the 
head  of  the  table  stood  two  chairs  of  exquisite  workmanship. 
These  the  monarchs  were  to  occupy  when  the  banquet  was 
served.  Nabomuran  walked  slowly  up  the  hall  and  paid  his 
respects,  first  to  Nabonidos  and  then  to  Belshazzar.  Both  mon- 
archs received  him  graciously.  He  had  felt  doubts  as  to  his 
reception,  anticipating  the  king's  anger  for  his  father  would 
extend  to  him  also,  but  if  either  monarch  entertained  such 
thoughts  they  were  carefully  concealed. 

Soon  after  he  left  the  monarchs'  station  they  descended  from 
the  platform  and  took  their  places  at  the  table.  This  was  a 
signal  for  the  guests  to  seek  their  places.  Then  all  was  ready 
for  the  banquet  to  begin.  Negro  servants,  clad  in  gay  attire, 
hastened  into  the  room  bearing  great  dishes  containing  viands 
for  the  feast.  Course  followed  course  until  it  seemed  as  if 
mortal  stomach  could  hold  no  more.  Every  dish  known  at 
that  day  had  a  place  upon  the  menu  and  the  Babylonians  were 


THE  INAUGURAL  BANQUET  115 

the  possessors  of  a  variety  of  food.  At  length  the  last  course 
was  served  and  speedily  devoured.  All  dishes  were  then  re- 
moved and  the  table  cleared  preparatory  to  the  entry  of  the 
wine. 

In  came  a  band  of  slaves  carrying  huge  vessels  rilled  with 
wine.  Behind  them  came  a  company  of  musicians  accompanied 
by  singing  and  dancing  girls.  The  nobles  lay  back  in  their 
seats  waiting  for  the  more  enjoyable  portion  of  the  program. 
The  musicians  began  their  labors  and  the  slaves  passed  rapidly 
along  the  table  filling  the  goblets  of  the  guests.  When  all  were 
filled  a  signal  from  the  chief  eunuch  stopped  the  music.  The 
subtle  rag  mag,  Vulmaran,  arose  and,  holding  aloft  a  golden 
goblet  filled  to  the  brim  with  the  rarest  Armenian  wine,  pledged 
the  health  and  prosperity  of  the  new  king,  calling  down  con- 
fusion upon  the  heads  of  his  enemies  foreign  and  domestic. 
Pledge  followed  pledge  until  the  danger  of  the  banquet  be- 
coming a  mere  drunken  revel  was  imminent.  Nabonidos,  feel- 
ing his  own  brain  succumbing  to  the  insidious  alcohol,  gave  or- 
ders to  the  musicians  and  singers  to  begin  their  part  of  the  enter- 
tainment. The  band  struck  up  a  lively  air  and  three  beautiful 
female  slaves  arose  to  dance  before  their  masters. 

They  threw  off  the  light  shawls  that  had  been  wrapped  about 
them  as  they  entered  the  room  and  now  stood  before  the  com- 
pany of  men  naked  from  the  waist  up,  and  the  lower  portion 
of  their  bodies  covered  only  with  a  short  skirt  that  barely 
reached  to  the  knees.  Beginning  with  a  slow,  undulating  move- 
ment they  swayed  back  and  forth,  to  this  side  and  that,  their 
feet  stationary  and  their  arms,  waving  gracefully  in  the  air, 
keeping  time  to  the  movements  of  their  bodies.  Gradually  the 
music  became  faster  and  faster  and  the  movements  of  the 
dancers  became  more  wild  and  abandoned.  Now  in  addition 
to  the  swaying  of  their  bodies  and  waving  of  their  arms  the 
lower  limbs  were  brought  into  play.  Faster  and  faster  the 
music  rolled  from  the  instruments  and  faster  and  faster 
whirled  the  dancers.  Round  and  round  they  spun,  becoming 
more  frenzied  each  moment.  The  guests  cheered  them  on,  but 


n6  RHESA 

at  last  they  became  exhausted  and  reeled  from  sheer  dizziness. 
They  were  caught  in  the  arms  of  three  of  the  younger  nobles 
who  had  crowded  about  them  in  anticipation  of  the  moment. 
The  three  fortunate  ones  carried  their  fair  burdens  to  the  table 
and  poured  wine  down  their  throats. 

A  beautiful  Armenian  girl  arose  and  in  a  musical,  sympa- 
thetic voice  sang  a  love  tale  of  her  native  mountains.  Another 
maiden  followed  with  a  song  of  similar  style.  She  in  turn 
gave  place  to  three  more  dancers  who  followed  the  same  move- 
ments of  their  predecessors  and  were  in  turn  carried  away  by 
three  more  nobles.  Four  sets  of  dancers  thus  performed  before 
the  company,  and  twelve  young  men  each  had  a  damsel  seated  in 
his  lap  at  the  table.  Meanwhile  the  drinking  continued.  Bel- 
shazzar  already  showed  unmistakable  signs  of  intoxication  and 
many  others  about  the  board  were  little  better. 

For  Nabomuran  the  scene  had  little  charm.  His  heart  was 
filled  with  love  for  one  pure  woman  and  the  sight  of  these 
lewd,  abandoned  girls  parading  their  nearly  naked  bodies  be- 
fore two  hundred  men  filled  him  with  disgust.  He  was  no 
wine-bibber.  The  flowing  cup  had  little  attraction  for  him, 
although  he  drank  moderately  upon  occasion.  He  sat  beside 
the  table,  leaning  back  in  his  seat,  his  eyes  half  closed  and  his 
thoughts  far  away.  While  meditating  upon  the  lives  of  the 
men  about  him  and  the  menace  they  were  to  the  nation,  he  felt 
a  slight  touch  upon  his  shoulder. 

He  turned  quickly  and  saw  one  of  the  leading  servants  of 
the  royal  household  standing  behind  him.  The  man  leaned 
over  and  slipped  a  small  roll  of  parchment  into  his  hand.  Open- 
ing the  roll  he  read  thereon  the  following  message,  indited  in 
well-formed  cuneiform  characters. 

"Come  to  me  at  once.  I  desire  to  speak  with  thee  upon  im- 
portant matters.  The  bearer  will  lead  thee  to  my  apartments. 

"NlTOCRIS/' 

Nabomuran  made  a  hasty  survey  of  the  apartment  and  its 
occupants.  All  attention  was  fastened  upon  a  Grecian  maiden 


IN  THE  QUEEN'S  APARTMENTS  117 

who  was  relating  in  a  singsong  tone  some  old  Hellenic  love 
tale.  The  soldier  arose  quietly  and  followed  the  servant  out 
of  the  Toom.  He  was  unnoticed  save  by  a  single  pair  of  eyes. 
Vulmaran  saw  the  incident  and  stored  it  up  in  the  secret 
archives  of  his  brain  for  future  use. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
IN  THE  QUEEN'S  APARTMENTS 

After  leaving  the  banquet  hall  the  servant  conducted  Na- 
bomuran  through  a  very  labyrinth  of  rooms  and  passages  until 
they  reached  the  suite  set  aside  for  the  use  of  Babylon's  queen. 
After  motioning  the  soldier  to  enter  the  first  room  in  the  suite 
the  servant  withdrew.  The  soldier  entered  and  looked  about. 
The  room  was  unoccupied.  He  seated  himself  upon  a  handsome 
divan  and  surveyed  the  apartment.  It  was  a  fit  habitation  for 
the  foremost  woman  of  the  world.  All  that  art  and  wealth 
could  do  toward  adornment  had  been  done.  The  bare  brick 
walls  were  hidden  beneath  the  richest  draperies.  Scenes  of 
beauty  were  woven  into  the  hangings  with  brightly  hued 
threads.  The  heavy  golden  fringe  of  the  tapestry  swept  the 
hard  brick  floor  of  the  apartment. 

Divans  covered  with  the  most  beautiful  and  costly  Oriental 
rugs  and  supplied  with  numberless  downy  pillows  piled  high 
upon  them,  were  scattered  here  and  there  about  the  room,  while 
heavy  furniture  adorned  with  trimmings  of  gold  was  standing 
about  in  a  seeming  disorder  that  was  the  very  height  of  artistic 
order.  Every  piece  of  furniture,  every  rug  and  pillow,  every 
ornament  testified  to  the  presence  of  a  woman,  and  a  woman  of 
the  most  artistic,  refined  taste.  Notwithstanding  the  stateli- 
ness  of  the  apartment,  it  had  an  intangible  air  of  comfort  about 
it,  a  lack  of  stiffness  that  seemed  to  make  a  guest  feel  at  home 
therein. 

As  Nabomuran  sat  there  waiting,  hardly  knowing  what  to 


n8  RHESA 

expect,  a  thought  of  his  position  came  over  him.  What  if  he 
had  been  lured  there  for  treacherous  reasons?  There  was  some- 
thing so  unusual  about  the  manner  of  his  coming.  What  fate 
would  be  his  if  he  were  found  in  the  queen's  apartments?  Specu- 
lation made  him  nervous.  Should  his  presence  be  known  to 
Nabonidos  death  would  probably  be  his  punishment,  for  in  this 
room  no  man  was  allowed  save  the  king  alone.  Remembering 
the  present  condition  of  the  king  and  his  occupation,  however, 
he  felt  reassured.  Then  also,  there  was  the  high  reputation  of 
Nitocris  herself.  Should  an  enemy  plot  against  him  he  could 
not  secure  the  co-operation  of  the  honorable  queen. 

He  heard  a  slight  rustle  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room  and 
looked  up  quickly.  Two  maidens  were  holding  open  the  heavy 
draperies  that  screened  the  entrance  to  the  queen's  private  apart- 
ment. A  soft  step  was  heard  upon  the  floor,  and  in  another 
moment  Nitocris  stood  before  him.  Tall  and  majestic,  she  was 
every  inch  a  queen.  Her  every  movement  was  one  of  the  great- 
est grace  and  dignity,  her  every  act  one  of  prudence  and  wis- 
dom. Her  name  is  well  entitled  to  a  prominent  place  in  the 
list  of  the  world's  historic  women.  In  the  eyes  of  the  soldier 
she  seemed  a  goddess  approaching  to  accept  the  homage  of  a 
devotee. 

She  advanced  slowly  and  when  directly  before  him  she  took 
him  by  the  hand  and  bade  him  arise.  He  obeyed  and  she  con- 
ducted him  to  one  of  the  many  divans.  She  seated  herself  and 
requested  him  to  sit  beside  her.  She  turned  half  around  upon 
the  divan  so  that  she  looked  directly  into  his  face  as  she  talked. 
She  lost  no  time,  but  plunged  directly  into  the  subject  upper- 
most in  her  mind. 

"I  doubt  not,  Nabomuran,  thou  art  surprised  at  being  thus 
summoned  to  thy  queen's  apartments  at  such  an  hour,  but  never 
will  I  have  a  better  opportunity  to  converse  with  thee  than  now, 
when  the  king  and  his  nobles  are  filling  their  stomachs  with 
wine  and  their  eyes  with  lewdness.  I  have  something  of  great 
importance  to  say  to  thee,  important  to  thyself  and  important 
to  Babylon.  Before  I  enter  upon  that  subject,  however,  I  will 


IN  THE  QUEEN'S  APARTMENTS  119 

relate  to  thee  briefly  the  story  of  my  life,  a  life  combining 
heights  of  happiness  with  depths  of  misery." 

The  soldier  was  interested  and  listened  intently  for  what 
might  follow. 

"Thou  knowest  my  name  and  thou  knowest  me  as  the  wife 
of  two  kings  of  Babylon,  but  my  early  life  is  little  known  here. 

"I  am  the  daughter  of  Amasis,  king  of  Egypt.  I  am  now 
forty-four  years  of  age.  I  should  be  in  the  very  prime  of  my 
life,  but,  Nabomuran,  misery  has  made  me  old.  I  am  in  the 
clutches  of  a  disease  that  is  slowly,  but  O  so  surely,  sapping 
my  life  and  strength.  I  may  live  five  years  or  I  may  live  ten; 
it  matters  little  to  me,  save  that  I  have  one  object  to  accomplish 
before  death  claims  me.  That  object  I  intend  to  make  known 
unto  thee  this  night. 

"The  heart  that  now  beats  within  my  breast  little  resembles 
that  of  the  seventeen-year-old  girl  who  more  than  twenty-six 
years  ago  bestowed  it  upon  Evil-Merodach,  the  handsome  and 
noble  Prince  Royal  of  Babylon.  The  prince  came  on  a  visit 
to  my  father's  court,  a  visit  intended  to  restore  good  feelings 
between  Egypt  and  Babylon  and  also  as  a  journey  of  education 
for  the  young  prince.  Upon  this  visit  the  prince  was  attended 
by  the  same  body-guard  thou  now  commandest.  I  had  been 
sought  by  many  noble  young  men,  both  from  Egypt  and  the  ad- 
jacent countries,  but  my  father  had  given  me  the  right  to  choose 
my  own  husband,  and  I  had  determined  that  where  my  hand 
went  there  should  my  heart  go  also.  Therefore  I  rejected  one 
after  another  of  these  suitors.  When,  however,  the  prince  of 
Babylon  arrived  I  at  once  beheld  in  him  a  man  whom  I  could 
love.  When,  scarcely  three  weeks  later,  he  asked  me  to  become 
his  princess,  my  heart  was  his,  and — "  dropping  her  voice,  "he 
was  the  only  man  I  ever  loved. 

"I  will  not  burden  thee  with  a  long  tale  but  will  only  state 
the  barest  facts.  I  married  him  and  accompanied  him  back  to 
Babylon.  We  took  up  our  residence  in  the  royal  palace  where 
a  sumptuous  suite  of  rooms  had  been  prepared  for  our  use. 
This  room  is  a  part  of  that  same  suite  but  its  charm  is  gone.  We 


120  RHESA 

had  been  married  a  trifle  less  than  four  years  when  the  old  king 
died  and  my  husband  mounted  the  throne.  Less  than  a  year 
later  the  gods  blessed  us  with  a  child,  a  boy.  All  Babylon  re- 
joiced at  having  an  heir  for  the  throne,  but  my  poor  boy  never 
came  into  his  birthright.  We  watched  the  growth  of  the  child 
with  love  and  interest,  in  our  pride  looking  forward  to  the  day 
when,  as  king  of  Babylon,  he  should  extend  his  empire's  sway 
into  all  parts  of  the  earth.  Alas  for  our  fond  hopes!  Before 
my  babe  learned  to  walk  or  his  tongue  learned  to  call  me 
'mother'  a  conspiracy  was  formed  and  my  husband  was  foully 
murdered.  My  child  was  included  in  the  schemes  of  the  as- 
sassins but  the  timely  interference  of  a  Jewish  slave  girl  saved 
his  life.  She  gave  up  her  own  babe  that  the  Prince  of  Babylon 
might  live.  Her  child  was  murdered  but  the  heir  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar was  saved  and  is  to-day  alive. 

"After  the  king's  death  I  took  up  my  abode  in  a  small  house 
outside  the  inner  wall.  Here,  after  I  had  been  a  widow  six 
months,  I  gave  birth  to  my  second  child,  a  daughter.  She  it  is 
who  is  known  to  thee  and  to  Babylon  as  Halista,  the  king's 
niece.  Thanks  be  to  Bel,  none  of  the  base  blood  of  Nabonidos 
flows  in  her  veins.  It  is  the  noble  blood  of  Nebuchadnezzar 
and  Amasis  that,  mingled  in  her,  gives  majesty  to  her  figure  and 
beauty  to  her  face.  Nabonidos  upon  marrying  me  insisted  on 
her  being  known  as  his  niece  and  not  as  Evil-Merodach's  daugh- 
ter. Think,  sir,  what  that  meant  to  a  mother!  Never  since 
her  babyhood  have  I  been  permitted  to  clasp  that  sweet  creature 
to  my  bosom  and  call  her  daughter.  She  Ipves  me,  'tis  true,  but 
O,  how  I  long  to  tell  her  all  and  hear  her  call  me,  'mother'. 

"But  it  is  not  of  Halista  I  would  speak  with  thee.  It  is  of 
my  son,  my  first  born  I  would  speak,  Nabomuran."  She  hesi- 
tated a  moment  and  placed  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  look- 
ing straight  into  his  eyes.  "Wouldst  thou  support  this  man  were 
he  to  assert  his  claims  and  seek  to  win  his  inheritance?" 

"Know,  O  Queen,  I  have  already  sworn  to  do  so,"  he  an- 
swered. 

He  then  related  to  her  his  meeting  with  Rastagus  upon  the 


IN  THE  QUEEN'S  APARTMENTS  121 

desert  and  the  strange  tale  narrated  by  the  Mede,  closing  with 
the  vow  he  had  there  made.  The  queen  listened  attentively,  be- 
coming more  and  more  agitated  as  he  proceeded.  When  he  had 
finished  speaking  she  burst  forth,  no  longer  able  to  control  the 
feelings  that  mastered  her. 

"As  thou  hast  made  that  vow,  Nabomuran  I  am  free  to  in- 
form thee,  thou  art  the  man !  Thou  art  the  Lost  Prince !  Thou 
art  my  son,  Sheshbazzar !  Thou,  not  Belshazzar  shouldst  have 
been  crowned  this  day." 

"Oh  my  son,  my  son !"  she  exclaimed,  encircling  him  with 
her  bare  shapely  arms,  "thanks  be  to  Bel,  I  am  at  last  permitted 
to  clasp  thee  in  my  arms  and  call  thee  son." 

They  sat  silent  for  some  moments,  the  mother  happy  in  the 
possession  of  her  son,  the  son  lost  in  amazement  at  the  revela- 
tion made  to  him  and  electrified  by  the  caresses  of  so  beautiful 
a  woman.  He  could  hardly  believe  it  true.  He,  Nabomuran, 
king  of  Babylon?  A  sudden  feeling  of  wrong  and  injustice 
came  over  him.  His  eyes  flashed  and  he  leaped  from  the  divan, 
crying : 

"Who  will  follow  Sheshbazzar?  Who  will  help  wrest  the 
throne  from  the  usurper?" 

"Hush,"  said  the  queen,  "the  very  walls  of  this  building  have 
ears." 

He  resumed  his  seat  beside  the  queen  and  relapsed  into  silence. 
Wild  thoughts  presented  themselves  to  his  feverish  brain, 
thoughts  of  rebellion  and  success.  Yet  there  was  ever  present 
a  dull,  indefinable  sense  of  helplessness.  As  a  soldier  he  fore- 
saw the  obstacles  in  the  pathway  leading  to  the  throne.  Could 
he  convince  the  people  of  his  rights?  Would  the  army  side 
with  him  or  would  they  take  the  part  of  Nabonidos?  He  re- 
mained silent,  absorbed,  yet  ever  conscious  of  the  queen's  gaze 
fixed  upon  his  face.  At  length  he  turned  to  her  and  asked: 

"What  wouldst  thou  have  me  do,  my  queen?" 

"I  cannot  advise  as  to  details,  my  son,  but  I  believe  it  is  thy 
duty  to  win  thy  throne,  but  there  must  be  no  bloodshed." 


122  RHESA 

"Impossible,"  he  interrupted.  "No  great  end  was  ever 
reached  without  some  sacrifice." 

She  grew  sad. 

"O  my  son,"  she  said,  "mine  eyes  have  seen  so  much  of  war 
and  blood.  I  cannot  think  of  thy  throne  being  won  over  dead 
men's  bodies  but  I  suppose  thou  art  right.  The  good  hereafter 
justifies  the  bad  at  present.  I  beg  thee,  though,  go  slowly.  Let 
there  be  no  murder.  Remember  that  Belshazzar  is  also  my 
son  and  thy  half-brother.  True  my  hatred  of  his  libertine 
father  descends  upon  the  son  but  I  am  yet  his  mother  and  I 
would  not  have  him  harmed.  Thou,  Sheshbazzar,  art  a  man 
pure  and  noble,  worthy  to  sit  upon  thy  father's  throne.  Thy 
half-brother  is  weak  and  effeminate.  Thou  art  a  soldier  accus- 
tomed to  camps  and  warfare.  He  is  a  boy,  happy  only  in  the 
palace  surrounded  by  dancing  and  singing  creatures,  whom  my 
lips  almost  refuse  to  mention. 

"My  son,  I  am  a  pure  woman.  I  have  never  visited  the  tem- 
ple of  Beltis.  I  have  always  used  my  foreign  birth  as  an  argu- 
ment against  my  going  through  the  ordeal.  Be  thou  also  pure. 
Let  not  thyself  be  lured  into  the  follies  of  this  wicked  city. 
Beware  of  women.  I  have  heard  them  whisper  of  thy  manly 
beauty,  but  hearken  not  thou  to  their  voices.  Answer  me  one 
question.  Dost  thou  love?" 

The  prince,  as  he  must  now  be  called,  started  at  the  ques- 
tion; it  was  so  unexpected.  He  hesitated  a  moment  and  then 
answered  calmly: 

"Yea,  my  queen." 

"Upon  whom  does  the  love  of  Sheshbazzar  descend?" 

"Orma,  the  daughter  of  Nehum,  a  leader  among  the  Jews." 

"A  Jewess!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Yea,  a  Jewess,  the  fairest  and  purest  of  her  race.  To  see 
her  is  to  love  her." 

"I  doubt  it  not.  Many  of  her  race  are  both  beautiful  and 
good,  but  think  my  son;  would  she  be  an  acceptable  queen  to 
the  Babylonian  people?" 


'TWIXT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION  123 

"That  I  know  not  but  if  I  am  to  be  king  the  woman  I  love 
shall  be  my  queen,  whatever  her  nationality." 
The  queen  sighed  as  she  answered : 
"I  hope  some  day  to  see  thy  princess." 
A  few  moments  later  he  left  the  apartment. 


CHAPTER  XV 
'TWIXT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION 

From  the  palace  Nabomuran,  or  Sheshbazzar,  as  he  must  now 
be  called,  hurried  to  his  home  and  immediately  sought  his  couch, 
but  little  sleep  did  he  obtain.  The  revelation  of  the  queen 
completely  revolutionized  his  aim  in  life.  Youth  loves  power 
and  no  young  man  could  well  resist  the  sensation  of  elation  that 
was  bound  to  come  when  he  found  himself  suddenly  trans- 
formed from  a  mere  officer  in  the  nation's  army  to  a  royal 
prince  and  even  more  than  that,  the  lawful  king.  Aside  from 
any  personal  feelings,  however,  he  considered  it  a  duty  he  owed 
his  ancestry  to  win  his  rights.  With  a  brain  filled  with  such 
thoughts  it  was  not  strange  that  he  found  sleep  hard  to  win, 
but  toward  morning  his  weariness  triumphed  over  his  mind 
and  he  fell  into  a  deep  slumber  that  lasted  until  far  into  the 
day. 

He  appeared  at  the  breakfast  table  long  after  his  worthy 
father  (foster-father  hereafter)  had  partaken  of  his  morning 
meal  and  left  for  the  temple.  The  prince  ate  in  silence,  his 
thoughts  still  dwelling  upon  his  new  position  and  its  respon- 
sibilities. He  regretted  his  father's  absence  as  in  his  present 
mood  he  felt  the  need  of  an  adviser  and  a  confidant  and  no  one 
could  take  the  old  priest's  place  in  that  respect.  Now  as  he 
thought  of  Neboakhu  he  wondered  why  he  had  not  made  the 
revelation.  Inquiry  of  a  servant  brought  the  information  that 
Neboakhu  would  not  be  at  home  until  evening.  It  was  the 


124  RHESA 

day  for  the  annual  conferring  of  degrees  upon  the  priesthood 
and  a  large  class  of  young  men  was  to  be  elevated  to  the  lowest 
order  of  priesthood,  with  a  corresponding  promotion  in  other 
degrees. 

Involuntarily  the  prince's  mind  dwelt  upon  Nehum  and  the 
old  man's  evident  wisdom.  As  a  Jew,  having  no  interest  in 
the  present  government,  he  could  not  only  be  trusted  as  a  con- 
fidant but  his  advice  would  be  entirely  unbiased.  As  soon  there- 
fore as  his  simple  meal  was  finished,  he  called  for  his  chariot 
and  was  driven  rapidly  to  the  old  Jew's  residence.  He  no- 
ticed with  surprise  the  comparative  quiet  of  the  city  streets, 
few  persons  and  they  only  of  the  lowest  classes,  being  abroad. 
Babylon  had  not  recovered  from  her  all  night  debauch. 

Upon  his  arrival  at  the  residence  of  Nehum,  Sheshbazzar 
passed  around  the  house  and  through  the  gardens  to  the  vine- 
clad  bower  that  held  so  precious  a  place  in  his  life.  Orma  was 
seated  within  the  bower,  with  little  Ruth  by  her  side.  She  was 
busily  engaged  upon  some  difficult  needlework  and  all  her 
attention  was  devoted  to  her  task.  For  some  seconds  she  was 
unconscious  of  the  presence  of  her  lover,  but  the  magnetism  of 
his  ardent  gaze  soon  caused  her  to  look  up.  When  she  beheld 
Sheshbazzar  a  quick  blush  mounted  to  her  cheeks. 

She  arose  instantly  and  advanced  to  meet  him,  leaving  her 
needlework  in  a  disordered  heap  upon  the  couch.  One  tiny 
hand  she  held  out  to  him  in  welcome.  The  soldier  grasped  it 
and  quickly  dropping  upon  one  knee,  carried  it  to  his  lips. 

"Thou  art  welcome  here,  Captain,"  she  said  after  he  had 
arisen. 

"I  felt  sure  of  a  welcome;  thou  art  always  kind  to  me,"  he 
said  simply. 

She  returned  to  the  couch  and  he  seated  himself  upon  a  low 
stool  at  her  feet.  After  his  first  remark  he  said  nothing  for 
some  moments.  Orma's  quick  perception  revealed  to  her  the 
disquietude  of  his  mind  and  it  worried  her,  she  thinking  it 
concerned  Heber.  She  at  last  broke  the  silence,  which  was 
now  becoming  oppressive. 


'TWIXT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION  125 

"Thou  art  troubled  in  spirit,  sir.  Thou  shouldst  not  be 
after  the  stirring  scenes  of  yesterday,"  she  said. 

"The  doings  of  yesterday  but  add  to  my  burden,  and  make 
more  difficult  the  task  before  me,"  he  answered. 

Her  intuition  now  showed  her  that  Heber  was  not  in  his 
thoughts. 

"I  should  like  to  speak  with  thy  father  and  thyself  concern- 
ing matters  of  importance.  Can  he  not  join  us  here?"  he  con- 
tinued. 

Ruth  was  instantly  dispatched  to  summon  the  old  man.  Dur- 
ing the  interval  which  elapsed  between  her  departure  and  the 
arrival  of  Nehum,  they  sat  silently,  she  leaning  back  dreamily, 
her  eyes  half  closed  and  he  intently  regarding  the  ground  at 
his  feet.  When  Nehum  came  he  was  not  alone.  His  com- 
panion was  none  other  than  the  great  prophet  of  Israel,  Daniel. 
Both  men  extended  a  hearty  greeting  to  the  young  man.  Nehum 
seated  himself  beside  the  daughter  and  Daniel  took  the  stool 
vacated  by  Ruth,  who  after  calling  her  master  had  not  returned. 

"As  Daniel  happens  to  be  my  guest  to-day  I  took  the  liberty 
of  bringing  him  hither,"  said  Nehum. 

"I  rejoice  at  his  being  present,"  replied  the  prince.  "Know- 
ing his  wisdom  and  his  knowledge  of  our  history  I  am  sure  his 
advice  will  be  of  value  to  me." 

"I  shall  be  honored  if  my  poor  advice  can  be  of  service  to 
thee,"  said  the  prophet. 

Without  wasting  time  in  preliminaries,  Sheshbazzar  plunged 
directly  into  his  narrative,  beginning  with  the  story  related  by 
Rastagus  and  closing  with  the  queen's  revelation  of  the  pre- 
ceding night.  His  account  was  simple  and  straightforward,  and 
told  in  the  third  person.  The  eyes  of  his  auditors  were  fastened 
upon  him  throughout  the  recital,  his  own  gaze  resting  first  upon 
one  and  then  another  but  usually  upon  Orma.  She  leaned  upon 
her  father's  shoulder,  her  hands  clasped  and  her  eyes  fastened 
intently  upon  the  speaker.  As  the  narrative  progressed  and  she 
realized  her  lover  to  be  the  lawful  king  of  this  great  empire 
a  feeling  partaking  of  both  awe  and  veneration  came  over  her. 


126  RHESA 

She  saw  more  clearly  than  ever  before  how  large  a  place  this 
man  occupied  in  her  heart  and  life,  but  she  also  saw  the  bar- 
riers between  them  grow  to  seemingly  insurmountable  propor- 
tions. 

When  Sheshbazzar  had  finished  speaking  he  looked  from  one 
to  another  o'f  the  group  in  expectation  of  some  remark.  Orma, 
true  to  her  womanliness  remained  silent,  her  eloquent  eyes  alone 
telling  the  prince  her  interest  both  in  the  tale  and  its  narrator. 
Nehum  motioned  to  Daniel  that  he  was  expected  to  offer  the 
first  comment.  The  prophet  obeyed. 

"Our  Father  has  laid  a  heavy  burden  upon  thee,  young  man, 
and  my  poor  wisdom  does  not  enable  me  to  advise  thee  at  this 
time.  Only  God,  the  Supreme,  the  Omniscient  can  guide  thee." 

"Thy  story  is  not  entirely  new  to  me,"  he  continued.  "I 
well  remember  the  rumors  of  thy  rescue  that  were  current  at 
the  time.  I  knew  personally  the  priest  who  received  thee  and 
that  he  rose  to  be  chief  priest  I  also  knew.  For  many  years  I 
have  suspected  that  if  Sheshbazzar  were  really  alive  thou  wert 
the  man.  I  was  surprised  to  learn  from  thee  upon  the  occasion 
of  our  first  meeting  that  thou  considered  Neboakhu  thy  father. 
When  it  comes  to  advising  thee  as  to  thy  future  action  I  know 
not  what  to  say.  Our  people  believe  the  prophesied  destruction 
of  this  great  city  to  be  at  hand  and  believe  also  that  it  will 
result  in  our  deliverance  from  captivity.  Thou  mayest  be  the 
man  destined  by  God  to  deliver  us,  but  our  prophecies  all  point 
to  the  Persian,  Cyrus.  Be  not  hasty.  Take  time  to  consider 
well  before  acting." 

"In  thy  narrative,"  said  Nehum  when  the  prophet  had  fin- 
ished, "thou  saidst  the  Mede  had  sworn  to  assist  the  Lost  Prince 
when  he  should  rise  to  claim  his  own.  Shalt  thou  seek  his  assist- 
ance?" 

"I  have  thought  upon  that  point,  but  I  fear  were  I  to  ask 
his  aid  it  would  bring  the  Persians  here.  Rastagus  would  un- 
doubtedly keep  his  vow  but  I  fear  it  would  end  in  my  kingdom 
being  swallowed  up  in  that  of  Cyrus." 

"Wisely  spoken,"  commented  Daniel. 


'TWIXT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION  127 

The  prophet  now  arose  to  depart. 

"I  will  bear  thee  in  mind,"  he  said  addressing  Sheshbazzar, 
"and  mayhap  I  can  advise  thee  more  later." 

"Thy  advice  will  always  be  of  value  to  me,"  said  the  prince. 

Daniel  departed  but  Nehum  remained,  merely  nodding  a 
farewell  to  his  guest.  When  they  were  alone  Sheshbazzar 
broached  a  new  topic. 

"When  I  gain  my  throne,  sir,  I  hope  thy  daughter  may  be- 
come queen  of  Babylon,"  he  said. 

The  old  man  was  visibly  affected  and  Orma,  blushing,  hid 
her  face  in  her  father's  robe. 

"I  know  not,  Prince,"  the  old  man  replied.  "I  am  not  am- 
bitious for  my  daughter.  I  would  be  happy  in  seeing  her  mar- 
ried to  the  man  she  loved.  That  she  cares  for  thee  I  cannot 
deny,  but  as  to  her  marrying  thee  I  cannot  well  decide.  We 
owe  thee  an  everlasting  debt  of  gratitude  for  our  preservation 
and  I  honor  thee  above  all  thy  race.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  think 
of  my  daughter  as  the  wife  of  one  of  thy  people,  but  I  could 
see  it  and  be  happy  didst  thou  both  worship  the  same  God. 

"I  hoped  and  prayed  that  the  Captain  of  the  Guard  might 
learn  to  see  our  God  as  we  see  Him  but  when  that  captain  be- 
comes the  king  it  seems  almost  an  impossibility.  Still,  Prince, 
thy  struggle  may  be  the  means  of  bringing  thee  to  see  Him  as 
we  see  Him,  the  One  Supreme  Being." 

During  this  speech  Orma  had  glanced  nervously  from  her 
father  to  the  prince  and  then  back  at  her  father  again.  She 
was  fearful  of  its  effect  upon  the  fiery  temper  of  the  Baby- 
lonian. She  was  pleased,  therefore,  to  see  him  smile  when  her 
father  finished  speaking.  He  did  not  at  once  reply  to  Nehum 
but  relapsed  into  that  thoughtful  silence  so  characteristic  of 
the  man.  As  he  remained  communing  with  his  own  thoughts  the 
smile  vanished  and  in  its  place  there  came  an  expression  of  dis- 
pleasure. 

At  length  he  spoke.  The  answer  he  made  was  both  satis- 
factory and  unsatisfactory  to  the  old  Jew,  paradoxical  as  that 
may  seem.  It  was  satisfactory  in  showing  the  superiority  of 


128  RHESA 

his  religious  belief  to  that  of  the  blind  idolater  and  unsatisfac- 
tory in  showing  how  the  prince  clung  to  his  belief. 

"Good  Nehum,"  he  began  slowly,  "I  have  heard  thy  words; 
I  appreciate  thy  motives;  I  honor  thy  beliefs.  Thou  lookest 
upon  me  as  a  worshiper  of  idols  and  in  that  thou  doest  me  in- 
justice. In  my  heart  I  believe  thy  Jehovah  to  be  my  Bel.  Deep 
in  the  nature  of  every  man  there  exists  a  belief  in  a  Supreme  Be- 
ing, who  rules  the  world,  controls  the  affairs  of  men  and  empires, 
holds  us  in  His  hands  and  directs  our  lives  to  suit  His  plans. 

"When  thou  kneelest  with  thy  face  toward  Jerusalem  thou 
art  as  much  kneeling  to  an  image  as  am  I  when  I  kneel  to  the 
golden  statue  of  Bel.  Thou  knowest  Jerusalem  is  not  Jehovah 
and  I  know  that  golden  image  is  not  Bel  but  we  bow  to  them 
as  symbols  of  that  Supreme  Being  whom  we  both  worship, 
though  bestowing  upon  Him  different  names  and  attributes.  I 
have  heard  of  thy  people  worshiping  thy  God  in  a  great  tem- 
ple. I  have  seen  that  temple  in  its  present  condition  and  as 
I  stood  upon  a  large  block  of  marble  gazing  down  upon  the 
crumbled  mass  at  my  feet  I  felt  sad,  as  if  the  temple  of  mine 
own  god  was  in  ruins.  There  was  no  God  in  those  broken 
marble  blocks,  yet  all  Jews  pray  with  their  eyes  turned  toward 
that  mass  of  ruins. 

"True  it  is  many  of  the  ignorant  among  my  people  see  no 
farther  than  the  golden  image  but  men  who  have  thought  and 
studied  about  their  religion  see  beyond  that  shrine  upon  the 
temple's  summit,  see  beyond  that  golden  statue  and  behold  the 
Omniscient,  the  All  Ruling  One,  who  made  this  earth,  peopled 
it  and  now  rules  it.  In  my  heart  of  hearts,  O  Nehum,  I  can 
see  thy  daughter  and  myself  walking  side  by  side  in  the  world 
to  come  if  thou  deniest  us  that  happiness  in  this  world." 

The  old  Jew  had  been  an  interested  listener.  He  took  no 
offense  at  the  young  man's  words.  He  saw  of  course  oppor- 
tunities for  argument,  weak  places  in  the  Babylonian's  defense 
but  he  was  loath  to  debate  with  him.  He  felt  the  force  of  the 
young  man's  logic,  was  susceptible  to  the  influence  of  his  words 
no  less  than  to  the  magnetism  of  the  speaker.  Yet  the  speech 


'TWIXT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION  129 

caused  the  good  old  man  pain.  It  showed  satisfaction  with  the 
present;  no  unsatisfied  yearnings  after  better  and  higher  things. 
It  showed  a  religious  belief  stern  and  unbending.  Had  Baby- 
lonian worship  included  human  sacrifice,  Nehum  felt  that 
this  man  would  have  upheld  and  defended  it.  Upon  one  point, 
however,  he  was  determined  to  hear  the  young  man  speak. 

"What  sayest  thou  to  the  manner  of  worshiping  Beltis,  the 
wife  of  him  thou  callest  Bel?"  he  asked. 

It  was  plain  to  see  that  the  prince  was  greatly  agitated  at 
the  question.  He  arose  and  paced  nervously  back  and  forth 
within  the  enclosure,  his  face  twitching  with  emotion  and  his 
hands  clenched.  Nehum  feared  that  he  had  committed  an  error 
in  asking  the  question  he  knew  full  well  to  be  difficult  of  an- 
swering, but  he  wished  to  hear  the  young  man's  opinion  of  this, 
the  most  degrading  form  of  worship  connected  with  the  Baby- 
lonian religion.  Sheshbazzar  was  not  angry.  He  despised  this 
peculiar  rite  himself  and  his  present  agitation  was  caused  by  his 
realization  of  the  impossibility  of  defending  it.  He  was  de- 
termined, however,  to  say  something  and  at  length  he  made 
answer. 

"Good  Nehum,"  he  began,  "I  wish  no  ears  but  thine  were 
present  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say  but  I  crave  thy  daughter's 
pardon,  assuring  her  that  my  words  spring  from  a  pure  mind. 
This  ceremony  of  which  thou  speakest,  like  all  parts  of  our 
worship,  was  intended  to  teach  a  great  truth.  It  was  intended 
to  show  man's  insignificance  as  compared  with  the  gods.  For 
a  woman  to  sacrifice  her  greatest  possession,  her  chastity,  would 
impress  upon  her  the  supremacy  of  the  gods  and  the  littleness 
of  humanity.  Only  once  a  lifetime  is  a  woman  obliged  to  go 
through  this  ceremony.  Many  of  our  foremost  women  have 
rebelled  against  this  worship  and  I  firmly  believe  it  will  soon 
be  abolished.  My  mother,  Nitocris,  on  the  strength  of  her 
Egyptian  birth  has  steadfastly  refused  to  submit  to  this  form 
of  her  adopted  faith.  My  sister,  Halista,  who  next  to  thy 
daughter  is  the  fairest  woman  in  Babylon  has  not  yet  sub- 
mitted although  gossip  has  it  the  priests  have  notified  her  of 


i3o  RHESA 

her  duty.  As  long  as  her  brother  has  life  and  strength  she  never 
shall.  I  trust  my  words  are  acceptable,  good  Nehum." 

The  old  man  had  listened  to  the  words  attentively.  He 
saw  the  deep  sincerity  beneath  each  word  and  he  realized  more 
than  ever  before  the  personal  purity  of  the  man.  No  listener 
could  fail  to  note  the  deep  loathing  that  the  prince  had  for  the 
custom  he  attempted  to  defend. 

It  was  impossible  that  Orma,  born  and  reared  in  the  great 
city,  could  have  lived  in  ignorance  of  the  custom.  Her  attitude 
during  her  lover's  speech  had  been  one  of  true  modesty.  She 
leaned  upon  her  father's  shoulder  with  her  gaze  fixed  upon  the 
floor  of  the  bower,  yet  the  young  man  had  been  conscious  of 
an  occasional  fleeting  glance  from  a  pair  of  black  eyes.  At  his 
placing  her  beauty  before  Halista's  she  looked  up  suddenly, 
blushing  with  mingled  pleasure  and  embarrassment.  Now  that 
he  had  finished  the  speaking  of  words  she  cared  not  to  hear 
she  straightened  up  and  looked  upon  him  calmly. 

"Prince,"  said  the  old  man,  "thy  words  show  me  how  deep 
and  true  is  thy  nature  and  how  pure  thy  life.  Thou  art  worthy 
of  my  daughter  and  I  consider  her  worthy  of  thee.  Her  birth 
is  high ;  in  her  veins  flows  the  best  blood  of  Judah ;  her  ances- 
tors were  mighty  men  in  our  once  proud  kingdom.  Sir,  when 
thou  choosest  Jehovah  as  thy  Ruler,  in  that  hour  will  I  place 
her  hand  in  thine  and  bid  thee  take  her  as  thy  wife. 

"Worthy  Nehum,"  replied  the  prince,  "thy  opinion  of  me 
is  most  flattering.  I  appreciate  thy  words,  but  noble  sir,  greatly 
as  I  love  thy  daughter,  I  should  prefer  to  see  her  face  no 
more,  to  walk  through  this  short  life  a  lonely  man,  rather  than 
pretend  a  change  in  my  religion  that  I  did  not  feel.  I  am  to 
understand  then  that  until  I  desert  the  religion  of  my  people  I 
must  be  a  stranger  to  thy  daughter?" 

"I  think  it  best,"  replied  the  old  man  solemnly. 

"Words  cannot  express  the  regret  I  feel,"  exclaimed  Nehum, 
rising  and  grasping  the  hands  of  the  prince.  "I  love  thee  as  a 
son  and  would  gladly  welcome  thee  as  the  husband  of  my 


'TWIXT  LOVE  AND  RELIGION  131 

daughter,  but  sir,  thy  married  life  could  never  be  happy  with 
thee  an  idolater  and  she  a  worshiper  of  Jehovah." 

The  brow  of  the  Babylonian  darkened.  The  word  'idolater' 
sounded  harsh  upon  his  ears  and  the  first  feeling  of  resentment 
came  over  him.  He  quickly  overcame  it  and  in  a  moment  was 
able  to  speak  calmly. 

"I  cannot  see  the  necessity  for  thine  action,  sir,"  he  said, 
"but  as  a  man  of  honor  I  shall  abide  by  thy  decision.  Yet  I 
firmly  believe  when  two  persons  love  purely  and  sincerely  the 
gods,  call  them  by  what  name  ye  choose,  will  open  the  way  for 
them.  The  time  has  now  arrived  for  me  to  depart." 

"May  the  blessings  of  Jehovah  rest  upon  thee,  sir,"  said  the 
old  man. 

Orma  extremely  pale  but  in  perfect  control  of  herself  came 
forward  and  offered  her  hand.  The  prince  took  her  in  his 
arms  and  drew  her  toward  him  in  one  embrace. 

"Farewell,  thou  dearest  and  fairest  of  women,"  he  whispered 
as  he  kissed  her  upturned  forehead. 

"Farewell  Prince,"  she  murmured.  "My  father  is  right  but 
it  is  hard  to  bid  thee  go.  Wherever  thou  art,  remember  the 
love  of  Orma  goes  with  thee  and  always  when  she  prays  will 
she  ask  God  to  bless  and  keep  thee." 

He  still  held  her  and  she  made  no  effort  to  disengage  her- 
self. Neither  did  the  old  man  interfere.  Orma  suddenly 
looked  up  into  his  face  and  asked: 

"O  sir,  for  my  sake  I  beg  thee  to  save  my  brother." 

"Thy  brother,  little  one,  is  dear  to  me  also  and  if  I  can  in- 
tercede for  him  I  shall  do  so.  Now  farewell.  Whether  I  fail 
and  die  in  a  dungeon  or  win  and  reign  as  king,  thy  place  in  my 
heart  remains  the  same  and  none  other  can  usurp  it." 

He  left  the  imprint  of  one  more  kiss  upon  her  forehead. 
Then,  grasping  the  hand  of  Nehum,  he  bowed  and  was  gone. 

The  old  man  followed  a  moment  later.  Orma  finding  her- 
self alone  threw  herself  upon  the  couch  and  gave  way  to  the 
grief  that  she  had  previously  controlled  so  well. 


I3a  RHESA 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BENEATH  THE  EUPHRATES 

Sad  and  oppressed,  Sheshbazzar  walked  slowly  down  the  path 
to  the  road.  His  chariot  was  in  waiting  under  the  guidance  of 
Susa,  who  since  his  brief  imprisonment  by  the  Jews  had  lived 
in  a  state  of  perpetual  fear. 

"To  the  palace,"  said  the  prince  as  he  entered  the  vehicle. 

Susa  eased  his  hold  upon  the  reins  and  the  noble  bays  sprang 
forward,  shaking  their  heads  with  delight  at  being  again  in 
motion.  Along  the  Borsipian  road  they  flew,  Sheshbazzar  urg- 
ing his  driver  to  speed.  They  stopped  at  the  old  palace  while 
the  prince  inquired  after  the  welfare  of  his  wounded  men. 
Then  on  again,  across  the  bridge  and  on  to  the  palace.  All 
of  the  gates  were  open  at  this  hour  and  the  chariot  passed 
through,  drawing  up  before  the  great  portal  of  the  royal  resi- 
dence. 

Sheshbazzar  being  known  to  all  the  palace  guards  was  allowed 
to  enter  unquestioned.  He  hurried  through  the  long  halls  lead- 
ing to  the  rooms  occupied  by  the  king  when  engaged  upon 
matters  of  state.  At  the  door  he  waited  while  a  servant  car- 
ried his  name  to  the  king.  He  was  bidden  to  enter  at  once.  The 
two  kings  occupied  the  new  twin  thrones.  Before  them  stood 
the  rab  mag  Vulmaran  and  Ulbar,  an  ugly  looking  dwarf  who 
held  the  important  position  of  chief  spy  to  the  king.  Evidently 
business  of  the  greatest  importance  was  being  discussed. 

The  prince  saw  in  a  moment  that  something  had  happened  to 
undermine  his  standing  with  the  elder  monarch.  Instead  of 
his  usual  gracious  greeting  Nabonidos  acknowledged  the  young 
man's  presence  by  the  merest  nod,  and  then  continued  his  con- 
versation with  Vulmaran.  A  servant  was  called  up  and  given 
some  whispered  instructions.  He  turned  and  hurried  toward 
the  entrance.  As  he  passed  the  prince,  who  was  standing  some 
thirty  feet  from  the  thrones,  he  whispered  hurriedly: 


BENEATH  THE  EUPHRATES  133 

"I  beg  thee  sir,  leave  this  place  at  once." 

Sheshbazzar  paid  no  heed  to  the  warning  but  remained  stand- 
ing in  the  same  spot,  waiting  until  the  king  should  see  fit  to 
receive  him.  Meanwhile  the  conference  about  the  throne  con- 
tinued. Sheshbazzar  noted  the  occasional  glances  cast  in  his 
direction  and  coupling  them  with  the  whispered  words  of  the 
slave,  he  doubted  not  that  he  was  the  subject  of  the  delibera- 
tions. He  decided,  however,  to  stand  his  ground  and  await 
the  result  of  the  consultation,  never  once  dreaming  of  the  fate 
being  decided  for  him. 

At  last,  after  the  prince  had  been  waiting  at  least  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  Nabonidos  raised  his  voice,  saying:  "Nabomuran, 
come  hither  and  state  thine  errand." 

He  advanced  to  the  foot  of  the  raised  platform  and  in  a  tone 
at  once  calm  and  self-assured,  presented  his  request. 

"I  come,  O  King,"  he  said,  "to  intercede  with  thee  for  the 
young  Jew,  Heber.  The  young  man  was  led  into  the  con- 
spiracy he  at  last  headed,  by  a  woman  who  exerted  over  him  a 
strange  power,  a  power  that  forced  him  to  do  her  will  even 
against  his  own  inclination.  Knowing  these  circumstances,  O 
King,  I  feel  myself  justified  in  appealing  to  thee  to  spare  his 
life  and  grant  him  his  liberty." 

"Our  times  are  indeed  degenerate,"  observed  the  king, 
"when  one  traitor  appeals  for  the  life  of  another." 

"What  meanest  these  words  from  my  king?"  asked  the 
prince,  astonished. 

"What  do  I  mean?"  thundered  the  king.  "Thou  askest  me 
what  I  mean?  I  mean  just  what  my  words  imply.  Thou,  who 
deservest  the  death  of  a  traitor,  cometh  hither  to  seek  mercy 
for  one  less  guilty  than  thyself.  The  Jew  shall  not  die,  but  by 
the  gods,  Nabomuran  thou  shalt.  Thy  previous  deeds  and  rank 
but  make  thy  present  crime  the  more  despicable,  the  more  de- 
serving of  the  fate  we  have  decided  to  be  thy  just  desert." 

Sheshbazzar  stood  appalled  at  the  king's  words.  So  sudden 
was  this  announcement  that  for  a  moment  he  failed  to  compre- 


134  RHESA 

hend  its  meaning.  Then  as  the  enormity  of  the  accusation  came 
over  him  his  knees  weakened,  and  he  turned  ashen  pale. 

"Ha,"  cried  Belshazzar,  "his  very  face  proves  his  guilt." 

Such  words  coming  from  the  boy  he  had  always  loved,  the 
scholar  he  had  been  at  such  pains  to  teach,  stung  the  prince  to 
anger.  His  indignation  made  a  man  of  him  again  and  he  stood 
before  his  accusers  and  judges,  straight  and  calm,  looking  them 
directly  in  the  face. 

"I  demand  to  know  the  lying  charges  my  dear  and  good 
friend  Vulmaran  has  brought  against  me,"  he  said  coolly. 

The  rab  mag  turned  white  and  red  by  turns.  His  own  guilty 
conscience  bade  him  fear  the  man  he  accused.  He  was  fright- 
ened lest  his  own  traitorous  schemes  were  known  to  the  prince. 

"Vulmaran  is  a  true  and  trusted  servant  of  his  king.  Long 
has  he  been  suspicious  of  thy  fidelity,  Nabomuran,  and  ever  care- 
ful of  his  monarch's  interest,  he  has  had  thine  actions  watched. 
Therefore  this  morning  he  was  able  to  expose  thee  completely, 
to  show  his  king  how  utterly  false  and  treacherous  was  the  man 
upon  whom  that  king  had  showered  honors  and  for  whom 
greater  honors  were  intended.  Know  thou,  Nabomuran,  that 
among  the  honors  to  be  distributed  in  celebration  of  our  son's 
coronation  thou  wert  destined  for  the  greatest.  Upon  thee  was 
to  descend  a  rank  never  yet  held  by  one  so  young.  General  of 
our  army  would  we  have  made  thee.  Already,  in  expectation 
of  thy  advancement,  we  have  signed  a  decree  removing  thee  from 
the  command  of  our  guard  and  promoting  Belibus  to  that 
post,  intending  next  to  sign  the  decree  appointing  thee  to  the 
command  of  all  the  armies  of  Babylon.  But  now  death,  not 
honor,  must  be  thy  share  in  our  gifts.  Thou  hast  none  to  blame 
but  thyself.  Instead  of  waiting  to  receive  the  honors  we  in- 
tended thou  hast  allied  thyself  with  rebels  and  traitors,  hoping 
by  thy  influence  over  them  to  rise  to  power." 

The  monarch  paused  for  breath  and  the  accused  took  this 
occasion  to  say:  "I  demand  to  know  fully  the  details  of  the 
crime  I  am  supposed  to  have  committed." 

"It  is  our  right,  Nabomuran,  to  condemn  thee  unheard  but 


BENEATH  THE  EUPHRATES  135 

because  of  the  love  we  once  bore  thee  we  will  give  thee  an 
opportunity  to  explain  all.  Canst  thou  prove  that  Vulmaran 
lied,  he  and  not  thee  shall  go  to  the  drowning  chamber.  Greater 
opportunity  never  had  an  accused  man  to  free  himself  from 
the  charges  brought  against  him.  Vulmaran,  stand  forth  and 
deliver  thine  accusation." 

The  rab  mag,  inwardly  trembling  lest  the  prince  should 
accuse  him  also,  stepped  forward  and  repeated  the  information 
he  had  previously  given  the  king.  He  faced  Nabonidos  and 
addressed  him,  not  daring  to  speak  directly  to  the  man  he  ac- 
cused and  to  look  him  in  the  face  as  he  gave  his  lying  testimony. 

"Thou  rememberest,  O  King,  that  the  night  this  man  reached 
Babylon  thou  didst  send  me  to  summon  him  to  thy  presence. 
After  I  greeted  him  he  began  asking  questions  concerning  thee 
and  thy  son,  ending  with  this  remark:  'Neither  Nabonidos 
nor  Belshazzar  is  fit  to  be  king  of  this  great  empire.  I  would, 
Vulmaran,  this  man  Sheshbazzar  arose  and  led  a  successful 
rebellion  against  the  present  government.  I,  for  one,  stand 
ready  to  assist  him.'  This  placed  me  upon  my  guard  and  from 
that  moment  I  have  had  him  watched.  His  every  movement 
has  been  known  to  me. 

"That  night,  King  Nabonidos,  thou  didst  order  him  to  send 
a  messenger  to  Borsippa.  Instead  of  choosing  a  trusty  man 
from  among  his  father's  servants,  he  selects  this  Jew  (for  whose 
life  he  has  this  morning  appealed)  knowing  full  well  the  young 
man's  affiliations  with  the  rebels.  The  night  selected  for  the 
Jews'  attack  this  worthy  captain,  instead  of  being  in  the  old 
palace  ready  to  lead  his  men,  visits  the  house  of  this  Heber's 
father.  As  he  starts  to  return,  he  is  taken  prisoner  by  his 
own  servant  and  carried  to  the  headquarters  of  the  con- 
spirators. In  some  manner  unknown  to  me  he  escaped  in  time 
to  reach  the  old  palace  after  the  battle  was  over  and  his  Jewish 
friends  defeated.  Without  doubt,  O  King,  it  was  his  intention 
to  become  their  leader  if  they  had  won.  As  it  was  he  arrived  in 
time  to  strike  one  blow  for  his  king  and  thus  for  the  moment 
save  his  reputation. 


i36  RHESA 

"Last  night  while  we  were  celebrating  thy  son's  coronation 
this  man  was  summoned  from  the  banquet  hall  to  another  con- 
ference with  the  enemies  of  the  nation.  Last  of  all,  O  King, 
this  man  is  Sheshbazzar,  the  claimant  to  thy  throne.  To  gain 
his  ambition  he  would  open  our  gates  to  the  Persian." 

The  accused  stood  quietly  as  he  heard  his  enemy  pile  one  lie 
upon  another  until  a  monument  of  falsehood  confronted  him. 
To  demolish  that  carefully  built  structure  would  require  drag- 
ging in  the  names  of  two  noble  women,  Nitocris  and  Orma. 
Even  had  he  felt  certain,  beyond  the  chance  of  a  doubt,  that 
the  explanation  he  could  make  would  clear  him  of  the  charges, 
it  is  doubtful  if  he  would  have  felt  himself  justified  in  making 
such  explanation.  He  realized  that  the  rab  mag's  final  an- 
nouncement sealed  his  doom.  He  wondered  how  the  official 
had  discovered  his  identity,  he  having  supposed  his  secret  safe. 
Knowing  the  very  name  Sheshbazzar  to  be  a  perpetual  night- 
mare unto  Nabonidos,  the  prince  realized  that  any  charges 
brought  against  him  would  be  willingly  believed  as  an  excuse 
for  ridding  the  nation  of  a  claimant  to  the  throne.  In  that 
moment  he  fully  believed  his  fate  to  be  settled  and  despondent 
as  he  was  because  of  Nehum's  refusal  to  bless  his  love,  he  little 
cared. 

Meanwhile  the  eyes  of  all  were  upon  him.  Nabonidos  had 
always  cherished  a  certain  amount  of  affection  for  the  young 
man,  and  had  his  identity  not  been  revealed  it  is  doubtful  if  the 
false  charges  would  have  condemned  him.  Now  that  Nabonidos 
saw  before  him  that  hated  man  whose  expected  appearance  had 
so  long  been  dreaded,  all  vestiges  of  love  or  mercy  were  seem- 
ingly obliterated.  He  awaited  the  prince's  reply,  but  the  latter 
stood  silent,  his  head  bowed  and  his  extreme  pallor  manifest 
even  through  the  coat  of  desert  tan. 

"Well,  Prince  of  Babylon,  what  sayest  thou?"  at  length 
cried  Nabonidos. 

"What  can  I  say,  O  King,  when  my  fate  is  already  settled? 
Hast  thou  not  already  condemned  me?  Now  that  my  true 
name  is  known  to  thee  and  I  am  in  thy  power,  no  explanation 


BENEATH  THE  EUPHRATES  137 

that  I  might  make  would  avail  to  save  me,"  replied  the  accused. 
"Then  thy  fate  be  upon  thine  own  head,  Nabomuran.     I 
swear  thy  new  name  and  rank  influence  me  not;  I  have  known 
them  for  years,"  replied  the  king. 

The  prince  started.  Could  it  be  true?  Nabonidos  had 
known  of  his  royal  rights  for  years?  Ah  no!  He  was  sure  the 
monarch  spoke  falsely. 

"King  Nabonidos,"  said  the  prince,  "I  am  guilty  of  neither 
intrigue  nor  conspiracy,  but  there  are  reasons  why  I  cannot 
explain  to  thee  some  of  my  actions  during  the  past  few  days; 
should  I  do  so,  innocent  persons  might  suffer.  Some  day,  O 
King,  thou  wilt  find  the  true  traitor  and  I  give  thee  in  charge 
to  bestow  the  fate  upon  him  thou  hast  planned  for  me." 

"Nabomuran,"  said  the  king,  "I  have  loved  thee  as  a  son 
and  thine  actions  cause  me  more  sorrow  than  anger,  but  in  times 
like  these,  when  the  empire  is  assailed  by  foes  without  and 
traitors  within,  a  sovereign  cannot  consult  his  personal  feelings. 
My  duty  as  king  therefore  compels  me  to  sentence  thee  to  the 
death  meted  out  to  all  who  prove  false  to  their  country." 

A  stillness  as  of  the  tomb  came  over  the  room.  Even  Vul- 
maran,  whose  plot  was  thus  brought  to  a  successful  climax, 
could  but  feel  the  solemnity  of  the  moment.  Belshazzar,  a 
coward  in  all  things,  leaned  against  the  back  of  his  throne, 
white  and  trembling.  Nabonidos,  more  self-controlled,  was  also 
affected.  Apparently  the  condemned  man  was  the  least  con- 
cerned of  all.  For  several  moments  the  strange  stillness  per- 
vaded the  room.  Vulmaran  was  the  first  to  return  to  the  mat- 
ter in  hand. 

"Here  guards,"  he  called,  "do  thine  office." 

Sheshbazzar  turned  and  for  the  first  time  was  aware  of  the 
presence  of  a  line  of  guards.  They  had  entered  silently  and 
were  drawn  up  in  line  behind  him.  Their  presence  reminded 
him  of  the  servant  who  had  warned  him,  and  he  concluded  that 
the  man  had  then  been  on  the  way  to  call  them. 

These  men,  many  of  whom  had  served  under  the  prince,  were 
now  compelled  to  place  their  former  commander  under  arrest. 


i38  RHESA 

Duty  is  a  worker  of  miracles  and  these  men  seized,  bound  and 
blind-folded  him  apparently  without  the  least  compunction.  In 
this  condition  he  was  led  from  the  room,  through  interminable 
halls  and  passages,  down  long  flights  of  stone  steps  and  around 
sharp  corners.  Damper  and  damper  grew  the  atmosphere  as 
they  progressed,  revealing  to  the  prisoner  his  whereabouts.  He 
was  beneath  the  Euphrates.  The  full  meaning  of  his  sentence 
came  over  him.  As  in  the  day  of  the  Doges  a  journey  across  the 
Bridge  of  Sighs  was  always  in  one  direction,  so  the  journey 
through  those  long  passages  and  down  those  rough  steps  from 
Babylon's  royal  palace  to  her  royal  prison,  had  but  one  mean- 
ing; but  one  fate  was  in  store  for  the  unfortunate  who  was  led 
through  the  labyrinth  to  the  dungeon.  Even  could  he  burst 
his  prison  door  he  could  never  find  his  way  back  to  daylight. 
Cunningly  indeed  had  Nebuchadnezzar  planned  his  dungeons. 
Surely  was  he  rid  of  an  enemy  when  he  saw  him  led  away 
through  that  first  long  passage  which,  though  on  the  way  to  the 
prison,  in  reality  led  away  from  it. 

On,  on  went  the  prisoner  blindly,  led  by  his  captors.  At 
length  they  stopped  and  held  a  whispered  consultation.  Then 
the  prisoner  heard  the  creaking  of  a  door.  He  was  thrust  into 
the  dungeon  thus  opened.  His  fetters  and  hoodwink  were 
removed  and  Babylon's  rightful  king  was  in  her  deepest  dungeon. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

AN    OFFER   O,F    LIFE 

The  dungeon  into  which  the  king  of  Babylon  had  thrown 
the  man  by  birth  intended  for  that  office  was  less  than  fifteen 
feet  square.  Its  cold  brick  walls  were  perpetually  covered  with 
drops  of  water  that  oozed  down  through  the  river  bed  into  the 
prison  beneath.  The  prince  knew  many  such  cells  to  lie  about 
him  but  no  sound  penetrated  into  his  prison  to  tell  him  of  fellow 
beings  in  like  situation. 


AN  OFFER  OF  LIFE  139 

The  furniture  of  the  cell  consisted  only  of  a  rough  timber 
bed  covered  with  mattings  of  rushes  and  a  small  three-legged 
stool.  All  comforts  were  lacking;  only  such  articles  as  were 
absolutely  required  to  keep  soul  and  body  together  were  pro- 
vided. Air  and  light,  neither  in  sufficient  quantities  but  more 
of  the  former  than  the  latter,  were  admitted  through  a  number 
of  small  holes  piercing  the  heavy  timber  of  the  door.  What  a 
habitation  for  a  royal  prince!  Was  it  a  Divine  judgment  that 
a  descendant  of  the  great  Nebuchadnezzar  should  occupy  the 
foul  and  lonely  prison  his  grandsire's  cunning  had  devised? 

After  the  great  bar  had  been  put  in  place  and  the  prisoner 
heard  the  retreating  footsteps  of  the  guard  grow  faint  in  the 
distance,  he  threw  himself  upon  the  couch.  As  he  lay  there  the 
events  of  the  past  few  days  crowded  before  his  eyes  in  a  con- 
fused medley.  In  one  brief  day  he  saw  himself  rise  from  a 
soldier  to  a  royal  prince  and  then  suddenly  drop  down  into  a 
dungeon.  He  followed  every  incident  of  his  life  from  the 
moment  he,  at  Jerusalem,  had  turned  his  horse's  head  toward 
Babylon  for  the  long  journey  across  the  desert,  to  the  present 
time. 

As  his  mind  dwelt  upon  the  scene  in  the  palace  he  was  struck 
with  one  fact,  the  clever  ingenuity  of  Vulmaran  who  had  taken 
two  or  three  comparatively  trivial  incidents  and  woven  them 
into  a  chain  of  evidence  sufficient  to  condemn  a  man  to  death. 
In  his  heart  Sheshbazzar  believed  that  Nabonidos  placed  little 
credence  upon  the  rab  mag's  charges  but  only  accepted  them  as 
affording  him  an  opportunity  of  getting  rid  of  the  only  man 
who  could  dispute  his  title  to  the  throne. 

For  several  hours  the  prince  lay  thus  a  prey  to  his  own  fren- 
zied thoughts  until,  wearied  by  the  long  reverie,  oppressed  by 
the  air  of  the  dungeon  and  the  realization  of  his  coming  terrible 
death,  his  mind  gave  way.  He  burst  forth  in  bitter  impreca- 
tions upon  the  gods. 

"Oh  Bel!  Oh  Merodach!  Ye  cruel  gods!  Ye  whom  I 
have  served  so  faithfully!  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  Is  it 
thus  ye  repay  the  veneration  and  service  I  have  always  given 


i4o  RHESA 

thee?  O,  ye  ears  of  stone  that  hear  not,  ye  hearts  of  adamant 
that  feel  not,  ye  bloodless  arms  that  act  not !  Who  are  ye  that 
men  call  thee  gods?  Selfish,  hard-hearted  gods!  Away  with 
thee  Bel!  Away  with  thee  Merodach!  I  defy  thee!  I  hate 
thee!  If  thou  art  gods  save  me  from  the  death  that  is  in  store 
for  me.  Carry  me  forth  from  this  place  and  sit  me  on  my 
father's  throne. 

"Ah!  There  are  no  gods!  Man  is  created  as  is  the  lowest 
animal.  Why  then  should  man  have  gods  and  the  animals 
none.  Ah  no,  there  are  no  gods!  Only  cowards  believe  in 
gods.  Brave  men  defy  them.  I  defy  them!  Do  thy  worst,  I 
fear  thee  not!" 

Suddenly  his  strong  nature  asserted  itself,  conquering  the 
weakness  of  his  mind.  In  a  moment  he  was  calm.  He  arose 
and  sat  upright  upon  the  edge  of  the  couch. 

"Sheshbazzar,  for  shame,"  he  addressed  himself,  "revile  not 
the  gods.  Up  to  this  moment  they  have  honored  thee.  Trust 
them  yet.  Not  until  thou  art  led  into  yonder  chamber  to  drown 
like  a  rat,  shouldst  thou  lose  faith.  As  long  as  the  breath  of 
life  remains  within  a  man  just  so  long  should  he  trust  his  god." 

He  felt  weary  and  again  stretching  his  length  upon  the  couch, 
he  soon  fell  into  a  deep  slumber.  He  was  awakened  by  the 
sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  ringing  through  the  echoing 
passages.  It  was  night  and  the  approaching  party  carried  a 
light  whose  faint  rays  crept  through  the  holes  in  his  prison 
door.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  footsteps  until  by  paying 
strict  attention  to  the  sound  he  could  judge  them  to  belong  to 
two  persons.  At  length  the  glimmer  of  the  light  became  so 
strong  that  it  revealed  to  the  prisoner  more  of  the  horror  of 
his  dungeon  than  he  had  before  believed.  The  rays  coming 
through  the  air  holes  in  the  door,  rested  upon  a  gruesome  sight — 
the  mouldering  skull  and  bones  of  a  former  occupant. 

Finally  he  heard  strong  hands  removing  the  great  bar  that 
secured  the  door.  A  moment  later  the  door  was  opened  slightly 
and  a  man  squeezed  in,  his  companion  remaining  outside.  At 
the  first  creak  of  the  opening  door  the  prisoner  had  leaped  from 


AN  OFFER  OF  LIFE  141 

his  couch  and  now  stood  defiantly,   ready  to  defend  himself 
should  it  be  necessary. 

"Who  is  it  seeks  to  mar  the  solitude  of  my  cell?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"It  is  I,  Vulmaran,"  was  the  answer  in  smooth,  oily  tones. 

"Hast  thou  come  to  taunt  me  on  the  success  of  thy  villainies?" 

"Nay,  Nabomuran,"  was  the  reply. 

"My  name  is  Sheshbazzar,"  corrected  the  prisoner  with  some 
dignity. 

"Sheshbazzar,"  continued  the  rab  mag,  smiling,  "I  am  come 
not  to  taunt,  but  to  help ;  not  to  accuse,  but  to  lead  thee  hence 
a  free  man.  Moreover  I  am  come  to  offer  thee  my  assistance 
in  winning  thy  father's  throne." 

Vulmaran  placed  the  lamp  upon  the  stool  and  faced  the 
prisoner,  smiling  blandly  but  closely  watching  the  man  to  see 
the  effect  of  his  words.  Sheshbazzar  questioned  the  man's  sin- 
cerity and  remained  silent,  his  glance  fixed  upon  the  horrible 
sight  in  the  corner. 

"Has  a  few  hours'  imprisonment  so  cowed  thy  brave  spirit 
as  to  destroy  thy  aspirations  for  royalty?"  inquired  the  rab  mag. 

"Nay  Vulmaran,  the  events  of  the  past  few  days  have  served 
to  reveal  unto  me  the  treachery  of  man.  Only  three  days  since 
I  rode  into  Babylon  after  a  long  and  arduous  journey.  Hardly 
had  I  arrived  at  home  when  I  was  visited  by  a  man  I  have 
always  trusted.  After  giving  me  a  welcome  that  I  thought 
genuine  he  delivered  to  me  a  message  from  the  king.  From  that 
moment  that  man  has  been  my  enemy,  seeking  to  ruin  me  by 
any  means  he  could  employ.  His  tongue  has  whispered  lies 
concerning  me  until  the  greatest  lie  of  all  lands  me  here  in  this 
revolting  place.  Here  he  who  once  commanded  thousands  lies 
alone,  save  for  the  filthy  crawling  creatures  and  the  bones  of 
my  unfortunate  predecessor  who,  no  doubt,  was  placed  here  at 
the  instance  of  the  same  deep-dyed  villain  who  is  responsible  for 
my  incarceration." 

"Nay,  nay,  Sheshbazzar,  call  no  names.  Listen.  Ambition 
is  a  fault,  if  fault  it  is,  common  to  mankind.  No  man  however 


i42  RHESA 

humble  or  unworthy  is  denied  its  possession.  Think  not,  O 
Prince,  the  worm  gnawing  at  thy  vitals  has  no  brothers?  A 
member  of  the  same  family  has  long  been  crawling,  eating  in 
my  own  intestines.  As  thou  well  knowest,  two  former  rab  mags 
of  Babylon  have  made  themselves  king,  once  to  the  great  dis- 
comfiture of  thy  royal  father.  Is  not  Vulmaran  as  able  a  con- 
spirator as  Neriglissar  or  Nabonidos?  Would  he  not  fill  a 
throne  as  acceptably  as  either  of  them?  If  then  I  plotted  for 
mine  own  advancement,  who  would  be  a  greater  obstacle  in  my 
path  than  thyself  ?  Why  should  I  not  seek  thy  downfall  if  mine 
own  chances  of  success  were  thereby  heightened?  All  life  is 
selfishness.  Here  in  thy  prison  cell  thou  canst  see  yonder  spider 
swelling  his  ugly  belly  by  sacrificing  other  insects. 

"I  am  not  here,  however,  to  deliver  an  address  upon  the 
weaknesses  of  mankind,  but  I  am  here  to  speak  with  thee  upon 
matters  of  importance  to  both  of  us.  Believest  thou  that  the 
Jews  themselves  thought  of  rebellion?  Ah  no.  Vulmaran 
whispered  to  them  and  they  were  fired  with  zeal,  but  they 
quickly  got  beyond  my  control.  The  fools  blundered  and  well 
did  they  pay  for  their  mistake.  My  first  move  was  defeated 
and  I  waited  for  my  next.  The  refusal  of  the  chief  priest  to 
bless  this  baby  king  and  his  announcement  of  Sheshbazzar's 
existence  set  me  thinking.  Vulmaran  could  not  become  king 
with  Evil-Merodach's  son  alive.  Therefore  Sheshbazzar  must 
die ;  but  who  is  Sheshbazzar  and  where  does  he  reside  ?  How 
easy  to  learn! 

"A  young  man  is  called  away  from  a  banquet.  He  obeys  the 
summons  and  seeks  the  antechamber  of  the  queen's  apartments. 
He  seats  himself  upon  a  divan.  Hidden  in  a  curtain  behind 
the  divan  is  a  little  maiden  who  obeys  Vulmaran's  every  wish. 
Words  are  spoken.  The  maiden  has  ears,  yea,  and  a  tongue 
also,  and  the  young  man  leaves  not  the  palace  ere  Vulmaran 
knows  every  word  that  was  spoken.  The  identity  of  his  mys- 
terious rival  is  known;  indeed,  he  has  always  had  a  suspicion 
in  that  direction,  knowing  that  Neboakhu  was  never  married. 
Next  was  to  bring  about  that  man's  death.  A  weak  monarch 


AN  OFFER  OF  LIFE  143 

is  clay  in  the  hands  of  his  ministers.  Nabonidos  falls  into  the 
trap  and  condemns  to  death  a  man  he  loves  more  even,  I  believe, 
than  he  does  his  own  son.  Oh,  Oh,  of  all  the  intrigues  I  have 
planned,  Prince,  this  was  the  easiest." 

"Easy  because  the  subject  of  thy  plans  was  not  a  villain  like 
thyself." 

The  rab  mag  smiled  derisively. 

"Words  are  but  poor  weapons,  Prince.  Thou  canst  not  slay 
me  with  them,"  he  said. 

"Fear  not.  My  hands  are  too  honest  to  be  ever  stained  with 
such  vile  blood  as  thine." 

"Fear!"  exclaimed  the  rab  mag.  "What  have  I  to  fear? 
Thou  art  unarmed  while  I  have  weapons  and  am  attended." 

"Come  Sheshbazzar,"  he  said  persuasively,  "revile  me  not.  I 
am  sent  hither  by  the  king  to  carry  out  thy  sentence.  I  am  here 
to  conduct  thee  to  the  drowning  chamber.  Have  I  not  then 
the  power  to  slay  thee?  Have  I  not  also  the  power  to  lead 
thee  into  the  light  above?  I  am  not  here  to  kill  thee,  but  to 
save  thee.  I  have  a  proposal  to  make  unto  thee." 

"Since  morning,"  he  continued,  "I  have  thought  much  on 
my  plans  for  becoming  king  and  I  see  many  obstacles  in  my  way. 
Events  are  against  me.  I  cannot  even  hope  to  retain  my  present 
position  for  long.  Other  tongues  than  mine  have  been  at  work 
and  Nabonidos  trusts  not  his  rab  mag  as  once  he  did.  In  time 
will  come  my  removal  from  office  if  not  my  death.  I  have 
therefore  a  proposal  to  make  unto  thee.  What  thou  couldst 
not  accomplish  alone  and  what  I  cannot  do  alone,  we  can  both 
obtain  by  working  together.  I  am  here  then  to  lead  thee  forth 
from  here  and  conduct  thee  without  the  city.  Go  thou  into 
the  surrounding  country  and  raise  thine  army.  March  upon 
Babylon  and  surround  it.  Some  dark  night  the  friends  of  Vul- 
maran  will  throw  open  the  gates  and  Sheshbazzar  will  enter. 
The  rest  is  easily  accomplished." 

"What  is  the  price  Vulmaran  places  upon  his  services?"  in- 
quired the  prisoner. 

"My  price  is  small,"  answered  the  plotter.     "Susiana  to  be 


I44  RHESA 

independent  of  Babylon  with  Vulmaran  as  its  king  and  Halista, 
the  sister  of  the  victorious  prince,  to  become  the  wife  of  Iddin, 
son  of  the  new  king  of  Susiana." 

"Small!"  cried  the  prince  passionately.  "Callest  thou  the 
half  of  a  kingdom  and  the  honor  and  happiness  of  a  good 
woman,  a  small  price  for  thy  treachery  to  Nabonidos.  Nay, 
Vulmaran,  thou  canst  not  tempt  me  thus.  If  I  mount  my 
father's  throne  I  shall  mount  it  with  skirts  clean  of  such  mud 
as  thee." 

"The  drowning  chamber  then  awaits  thee,"  cried  the  rab 
mag,  white  with  anger. 

He  opened  the  door  and  called  upon  the  guard  to  enter.  Not 
one,  but  three  men  obeyed  the  call.  Sheshbazzar  eagerly 
scanned  their  faces  in  search  of  a  friend.  Ah  no!  They  were 
Susianian  slaves.  The  cunning  rab  mag  dare  trust  no  soldier 
with  this  job  but  had  brought  three  slaves  from  his  own  house- 
hold, men  trained  to  obey  his  every  command. 

They  seized  the  prince  but  he  threw  them  off.  A  terrible 
struggle  followed.  He  seemed  possessed  of  a  maniac's 
strength  and  for  some  moments  kept  the  three  at  bay,  but  it 
availed  him  little.  He  was  tripped  and  thrown,  falling  heavily 
upon  the  damp  floor  of  the  dungeon,  and  before  he  could  rise 
his  arms  were  pinioned  and  his  ankles  shackled.  No  time  was 
lost.  As  soon  as  he  was  completely  within  their  power  they 
pushed  him  through  the  door  and  forced  him  along  the  short 
passage  leading  from  the  corridor  of  the  dungeons  to  the  mys- 
terious chamber  of  death,  of  whose  terrors  the  victim  had  so 
often  heard. 

Vulmaran  threw  open  the  door  of  the  terrible  room.  Shesh- 
bazzar peered  in  anxiously.  It  was  apparently  a  simple  dun- 
geon. No  instrument  of  death  or  torture  could  be  seen.  No 
hint  of  the  rumored  terror  was  manifest.  The  only  object  to 
be  seen  was  a  huge  chair  built  of  the  stoutest  timber.  Hanging 
from  its  back,  its  arms,  its  rounds  were  broad  leather  straps. 

The  prince  of  Babylon  was  forced  into  this  chair.  His  fore- 
head was  strapped  to  the  chair  back,  his  arms  to  the  chair  arms 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED  145 

and  his  legs  to  the  chair  rounds.  There  was  no  swimming  in 
this  chamber !  While  the  slaves  were  binding  him  Sheshbazzar 
made  a  hasty  survey  of  the  room.  All  he  could  see  to  indicate 
its  purpose  was  a  circular  opening,  two  feet  in  diameter,  in  the 
ceiling  on  the  side  of  the  room  opposite  the  chair.  Through  this 
opening  would  the  strange  executioner  enter.  The  prisoner  was 
in  proper  position. 

Vulmaran  picked  up  the  lamp  that  the  slaves  had  brought 
into  the  room,  and  set  it  in  a  niche  high  up  on  the  wall. 

"I  leave  thee  a  light  so  that  thou  mayest  see  thy  executioner 
come.  He  will  come  slowly  and  thou  mayest  be  interested  in 
watching  him.  Of  course  the  water  will  put  out  the  light  but 
by  that  time  thou  will  not  know  darkness  from  light.  Now 
farewell,  King  of  Babylon,  may  thy  reign  be  long  and  pros- 
perous," said  Vulmaran  as  he  backed  slowly  toward  the  door. 

Upon  the  threshold  he  stopped  and  bowed  obsequiously  to 
his  victim.  Then  he  closed  and  barred  the  great  water-tight 
door.  He  motioned  to  the  slaves  and  they  threw  over  the  lever 
that  opened  the  flood  gate.  Within  the  chamber  all  was  sil- 
ent. 

"Ah  Father  Euphrates,"  cried  Vulmaran,  "how  kind  thou 
art  to  thus  remove  our  enemies!" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  FRIEND  IN  NEED 

Not  until  the  heavy  door  was  closed  and  barred  and  Shesh- 
bazzar found  himself  alone  in  the  chamber  of  death,  did  the 
full  sense  of  his  approaching  torture  and  death  come  over  him. 
He  sat  motionless  and  rigid  in  the  heavy  chair,  unable  even  to 
move  his  head  from  side  to  side.  Notwithstanding  the 
haste  in  which  they  worked,  the  slaves  had  performed  their  task 
well.  Save  for  the  twitching  of  an  eyelid  he  could  not  move  a 
muscle. 


i46  RHESA 

The  innocent  looking  opening  in  the  ceiling  entranced  him. 
Try  as  he  would  he  could  not  prevent  his  gaze  resting  upon  it. 
He  sat  staring  at  the  opening,  momentarily  expecting  the  ad- 
vance guard  of  that  flood  which  in  a  few  brief  but  agonizing 
moments  would  destroy  his  ambitions  with  his  life.  His 
thoughts  took  a  speculative  turn. 

"How  long  will  it  take  the  waters  to  reach  my  head?"  he 
asked  himself. 

He  shuddered  to  think  of  the  approaching  agony  and  death, 
to  sit  there  powerless  and  watch  the  insidious  waters  as  they 
gradually,  O  so  gradually,  arose  from  foot  to  knee,  to  thigh,  to 

breast,  to  chin,  to .  He  could  not  finish  the  scale.  He 

shook  convulsively  in  anticipation  of  the  sensation.  What 
agony  it  would  be  to  watch  and  wait  for  the  moment  when 
the  treacherous  water,  having  reached  the  level  of  his  mouth, 
mounted  to  his  lip  and  the  topmost  particle  wet  his  nose.  An- 
other moment  and  then  would  come  the  terrible  gasping  for 
breath,  the  agony  of  suffocation.  The  thought  was  crazing; 
each  second  seemed  a  millennium.  In  his  torture  he  began  to 
cry  out. 

"Curses  on  thy  head,  Vulmaran!  Cursed,  cursed  be  ye! 
May  the  gods  visit  thee  with  eternal  agony.  King  of  Susiana, 
thou!  Halista,  thy  daughter-in-law!  Never!  Rather  this  a 
thousand  times." 

"O  ye  gods,"  he  cried  after  a  brief  pause.  "Prolong  not  my 
agony.  Send  the  water  now  and  send  it  quickly.  End  this  sus- 
pense, this  agony.  Take  me  to  thyselves  and  let  me  live  with 
thee." 

"O  Orma,  my  love,  my  love.  Never  more  will  I  look  into 
those  dark  eyes  and  see  within  myself  enthroned.  Remember 
me  kindly,  my  loved  one." 

He  fell  to  thinking  of  the  Jewess  and  wondering  how  long 
before  she  would  hear  of  his  fate,  if  ever.  As  he  thought  of 
the  days  of  suspense  in  store  for  his  friends,  it  made  him  sad. 
He  thought  of  the  old  man  who  for  so  long  had  been  the  only 
father  he  had  ever  known.  Would  any  seek  to  avenge  his 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED  147 

death  ?  Suddenly  he  heard  a  strange  scratching  noise  up  in  the 
pipe. 

"What  is  that  I  hear  in  the  pipe?"  he  cried.  "Oh,  the  water 
is  coming.  Merodach,  save  me!  Save  me,  Bel!  Why  doesn't 
the  water  come?  Do  they  wait  to  make  my  agony  the  more 
intense?  What  is  that?  Afoot!  Two  legs!  A  body!  Thou 
Ulbar,  art  thou  come  to  torment  me  in  my  suffering?" 

The  cause  of  the  strange  noise  in  the  pipe  was  now  apparent. 
Ulbar,  the  diminutive  chief  spy,  had  scrambled  down  through 
the  opening  and  now  stood  before  the  prince. 

"Leave  me  alone  in  my  agony,"  cried  the  half-crazed  man. 

"Nay,  O  Prince,  Ulbar  comes  as  a  friend;  comes  to  undo 
the  damage  that  he  was  forced  to  do  by  those  above  him.  He 
alone  of  all  the  men  in  Babylon  could  save  thee.  This  place 
is  under  his  charge  and  he  only  knows  its  secret  workings.  Did 
not  the  father  of  Ulbar  construct  the  room  and  arrange  its 
machinery?" 

"This  is  neither  the  time  nor  place  for  talk,  however,"  he 
continued,  as  he  advanced  to  the  chair.  "We  must  make  haste. 
Those  outside  think  thee  dead  long  since,  and  will  soon  send 
for  me  to  pump  out  the  water." 

"But  the  water  has  not  yet  been  turned  on,"  said  the  pris- 
oner. 

"That  is  not  their  fault.  They  did  their  part  but  Ulbar  had 
unfastened  the  chains  from  the  flood  gate.  They  threw  over 
the  lever  but  only  the  chains  moved.  Come  now  and  follow 
me." 

While  thus  explaining  the  reason  for  the  death  chamber's 
non-performance  of  its  duty,  the  dwarf  had  been  busy  cutting 
the  straps  with  his  dagger.  The  prince  arose  painfully,  but, 
though  stiff  and  sore,  he  could  walk.  Turning  around  he  saw 
for  the  first  time  an  opening  in  the  floor  behind  the  chair.  On 
the  under  side  of  the  floor  was  a  sliding  door  that  worked  in  a 
pair  of  grooves.  This  door  pulled  back  from  the  corridor 
without,  thus  allowing  the  water  to  escape  into  a  pit  beneath. 
The  combined  efforts  of  the  two  men  pushed  the  door  back. 


i48  RHESA 

Sheshbazzar  peered  into  the  darkness  beneath  but  could  see 
nothing,  so  deep  and  impenetrable  was  the  gloom. 

"Jump,"  commanded  his  rescuer. 

Trusting  the  dwarf  implicitly,  the  prince  let  himself  through 
the  hole,  hung  by  his  arms  from  the  floor  a  moment  and  then 
dropped,  fully  expecting  to  fall  a  considerable  distance.  To 
his  surprise  he  landed  instantly.  So  slight  was  the  distance  that 
his  landing  upon  the  hard  pavement  caused  no  pain  to  the  soles 
of  his  feet  although  he  wore  only  thin  sandals.  Ulbar  fol- 
lowed. 

"What  place  is  this?"  inquired  the  prince  as  the  dwarf 
scrambled  to  his  feet. 

"This  is  a  square  pit  intended  to  hold  the  water  that  drains 
from  the  room  above.  A  lever  in  the  corridor  opens  yonder 
door  and  the  water  soon  runs  off.  Where  we  are  standing  the 
floor  is  almost  level  but  from  here  it  slopes  down  to  a  smaller 
pit  beneath  a  high  tower.  In  this  tower  an  endless  chain  hung 
with  buckets  carries  the  water  up  and  pours  it  back  into  the 
river  whence  it  came." 

"Can  they  stop  the  water  flowing  into  the  room  above?" 

"The  water  does  not  flow  directly  from  the  river  but  comes 
from  a  reservoir  that  holds  exactly  the  quantity  required  to 
fill  the  room.  This  reservoir  is  filled  from  a  pipe  that  leads 
from  the  river.  It  is  filled  beforehand  whenever  the  chamber  is 
to  be  used.  At  other  times  it  is  empty.  Come,  sir,  we  cannot 
wait.  If  we  are  to  see  the  world  above  we  must  climb  up 
yonder  chain.  It  is  our  only  avenue  of  escape." 

The  rattle  of  a  chain  was  heard  directly  above  them. 

"Ha!  They  have  opened  the  door  above,"  said  Ulbar.  "A 
few  moments  more  and  they  will  enter  the  chamber.  We  must 
make  haste.  Follow  me.  Walk  carefully;  the  floor  slopes." 

With  one  hand  outstretched  touching  the  shoulder  of  his 
rescuer  Sheshbazzar  followed,  shuffling  over  the  rapidly  descend- 
ing pavement.  He  stumbled  several  times,  so  stiff  were  his 
limbs  from  his  previous  constrained  position,  but  he  reached  the 
edge  of  the  second  and  smaller  pit  without  accident.  A  faint 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED  149 

glimmer  of  light  came  down  to  them.  Hanging  in  the  pit  were 
the  buckets,  their  dim  outlines  barely  discernible  in  the  semi- 
darkness.  Leaning  out  over  the  edge  of  the  pit  and  looking 
up,  Sheshbazzar  could  see  the  long  line  of  buckets  as  they  rose 
one  above  another  in  the  tower  enclosing  them.  Far  above  was 
the  trough  into  which  they  poured  their  contents  as  they  turned 
to  descend. 

Ulbar  produced  a  stout  rope  from  beneath  his  gown  and, 
climbing  down  into  the  pit,  he  so  secured  the  endless  chain  as 
to  render  it  immovable,  thereby  making  it  safe  for  the  climb. 

"All  is  ready,"  said  Ulbar.  "I  will  go  first  and  do  thou 
follow  about  four  buckets  behind  me." 

Without  further  delay  the  little  spy  laid  hold  of  the  chain 
and  drew  himself  up  until  he  rested  on  the  first  bucket.  Then 
on  he  went  to  the  second,  then  to  the  third.  When  he  had 
ascended  about  twelve  feet,  (the  buckets  being  about  three 
feet  apart)  Sheshbazzar  followed  him.  Slowly,  laboriously  they 
made  their  way  up  foot  by  foot  in  the  darkness.  From  bucket 
to  bucket  they  drew  themselves.  It  was  a  difficult  climb.  So 
frail  were  the  buckets  that  they  dare  not  trust  them  to  bear 
their  weight,  but  drew  themselves  up  by  sheer  strength.  It  was 
little  better  than  going  up  a  rope  hand  over  hand. 

At  last  Ulbar  drew  himself  out  upon  the  trough  into  which 
the  buckets  emptied.  He  called  to  his  companion  to  stop  while 
he  looked  about  to  see  if  the  way  was  clear.  Only  a  moment 
did  he  allow  himself  the  luxury  of  rest.  Standing  in  the  trough, 
he  looked  out  through  the  opening  at  the  top  of  the  shaft.  The 
night  was  now  as  dark  as  any  plotter  could  desire.  The  bril- 
liant moon,  whose  knight-errant  rays  had  penetrated  into  the 
shaft  and  assisted  in  their  escape,  had  now  disappeared  behind 
some  gathering  clouds  in  the  west.  A  few  feet  beneath  flowed 
the  Euphrates,  still  and  dark.  Not  a  sound  was  heard,  not  even 
the  cry  of  a  bird.  Dark  and  quiet,  it  was  the  moment  for  an 
escape. 

"Come,"  called  Ulbar, 


150  RHESA 

The  last  few  feet  of  that  terrible  climb  were  soon  passed  and 
the  rescued  prince  drew  himself  up  beside  his  rescuer. 

"My  service  to  thee  must  end  here,"  said  Ulbar.  "Here  I 
was  ordered  to  await  the  signal  to  start  the  pails.  That  order 
must  soon  come  and  if  I  am  not  here,  suspicion  will  fall  upon 
me.  Climb  down  the  trough  and  drop  into  the  river.  It  is 
but  a  few  feet.  Directly  opposite  here  is  a  brick  quay,  small 
and  unused.  Lying  on  that  quay  is  a  bundle  of  clothing  which 
thou  must  put  on.  Wrap  up  thine  own  clothing  in  the  same 
way;  place  in  the  bundle  a  stone  that  thou  wilt  find;  tie  it 
securely  with  a  rope  that  I  have  provided,  and  then  throw  it 
into  the  river.  In  a  small  jar  thou  wilt  find  some  stain,  which 
applied  to  thy  skin  will  make  thee  appear  as  an  Arab.  Go  from 
Babylon  for  a  time,  my  Prince.  Now  go,  I  beg  thee.  Vul- 
maran  may  send  for  me  at  any  moment." 

"One  word  only,"  said  the  prince.  "I  will  not  stay  to  tell 
thee  how  grateful  I  am  to  thee  for  thus  saving  my  life,  but 
before  I  go,  tell  me  Ulbar,  what  prompted  thee  to  this  act." 

"Against  my  will,  Prince,  I  was  forced  to  bear  witness  against 
thee.  To  clear  my  conscience  I  have  done  what  I  could  to 
undo  the  mischief  caused  by  my  lies." 

"When  Sheshbazzar  returns,  Ulbar,  I  hope  he  can  repay  thee 
for  this  night's  service." 

"In  seeing  thee  alive  and  realizing  that  the  noble  line  of 
Nebuchadnezzar  is  not  cut  off,  I  am  fully  rewarded.  Go  now, 
I  beseech  thee." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Sheshbazzar  crawled  down 
the  trough,  hung  for  a  moment  on  its  outer  end  and  then 
dropped  into  the  river.  Hardly  had  the  sound  caused  by  his 
striking  the  water  died  away  when  the  door  of  the  shaft  was 
opened  and  a  slave  came  in  to  order  the  pails  started. 

By  the  time  Sheshbazzar  struck  out  for  the  opposite  shore 
the  swift  current  had  carried  him  several  feet  below  the  palace. 
The  swimmer  allowed  for  this  and  took  his  course  diagonally 
across  toward  the  unused  quay.  At  this  point,  which  even  in 
the  darkness  he  perceived  to  be  well  below  the  palace  proper, 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED  151 

the  river  was  exceedingly  narrow  as  if  to  make  up  for  its  great 
width  only  a  few  rods  above.  Therefore  the  current  was  very 
swift  and  it  required  great  exertion  on  his  part  to  reach  the 
shore.  When  at  last  he  drew  himself  out  upon  the  quay  he  was 
nearly  exhausted.  The  trials  of  the  preceding  day,  the  ner- 
vousness caused  by  his  confinement,  his  interview  with  Vul- 
maran  and  the  great  physical  exertions  of  his  escape,  combined 
to  produce  this  result. 

It  required  all  the  will  power  of  his  naturally  strong  char- 
acter to  resist  the  temptation  to  lie  there  on  the  quay  and  rest, 
but  the  thoughts  of  possible  dangers  ahead  spurred  him  on. 
Quickly  and  quietly  he  removed  his  garments  and  substituted 
the  coarse  Arab  dress  provided  by  Ulbar.  Then  by  rubbing  the 
stain  over  his  face,  neck  and  hands  he  became  a  veritable  son  of 
the  desert.  He  was  careful  to  use  the  stain  sparingly,  fully 
realizing  the  necessity  of  always  having  some  of  it  about  him  in 
order  to  keep  up  his  disguise. 

Immediately  after  the  rab  mag's  messenger  had  departed, 
Ulbar  left  the  tower  and  followed  the  slave  down  into  the 
labyrinth  leading  to  the  dungeons.  Vulmaran  and  two  slaves 
still  remained  outside  the  drowning  chamber.  Ulbar  broke 
into  a  run  that  the  rab  mag  would  believe  he  had  hurried  all 
the  way. 

"The  machinery  is  broken,"  he  cried  as  he  reached  the  group. 
"I  cannot  move  the  chain." 

"What  meanest  that?"  exclaimed  Vulmaran. 

"Never  before  has  it  failed  to  work,"  answered  the  dwarf. 

"Will  the  pit  beneath  hold  all  the  water  that  the  chamber 
contains?" 

"It  will,"  replied  the  spy. 

"Then  open  the  door  at  once.  The  water  must  have  escaped 
by  this  time.  I  am  impatient  to  behold  this  man's  body.  A 
strange  presentiment  tells  me  that  he  has  foiled  me  even  now. 
Open,  open  and  let  me  see  yon  water-soaked  corpse." 

The  slaves  undid  the  bars  that  fastened  the  great  water-tight 
door.  Vulmaran  grasped  the  handle  of  the  door  and  swung 


i52  RHESA 

it  open.  There  inside  the  room  stood  the  empty  chair,  its  cut 
straps  dangling  from  its  back  and  arms. 

"Foiled  again,  by  Merodach!"  cried  Vulmaran. 

"Yea  and  by  the  gods  themselves,"  he  added.  "No  human 
power  could  have  saved  him." 

He  turned  to  Ulbar  as  if  a  suspicion  of  the  truth  entered 
his  mind,  but  the  little  spy  returned  his  gaze  with  such  stony 
calmness  as  to  disarm  the  rab  mag.  An  exclamation  from  one 
of  the  slaves  drew  the  attention  of  the  foiled  murderer.  Vul- 
maran turned  at  the  cry.  The  Susianian  was  standing  beside 
the  wall.  He  touched  the  stonework  and  held  his  hand  out 
mutely  to  the  rab  mag.  Vulmaran  grasped  the  man's  meaning 
at  once  and  touched  the  wall.  His  hand  was  dry  after  touching 
walls  that  in  the  ordinary  course  of  affairs  should  have  been, 
water-soaked. 

"By  Nebo!  Even  our  father  Euphrates  has  failed  us,"  he 
cried. 

He  turned  angrily  to  the  slaves. 

"Did  ye  not  open  the  gate  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yea,  sir,"  answered  one,  "we  threw  the  lever  over  as  far 
as  it  would  go." 

Vulmaran  turned  away,  a  look  of  chagrin  upon  his  counte- 
nance. He  ordered  Ulbar  to  investigate  the  cause  of  the  failure 
and  repair  whatever  damage  he  found.  After  giving  this  order 
he  left  the  gloomy  place.  He  walked  through  dark  passages, 
around  sharp  corners  and  up  long  flights  of  steps  toward  the 
palace.  It  was  daylight  when  he  passed  through  the  last  low 
archway  and  entered  one  of  the  spacious  halls  of  the  royal 
residence.  His  presence  in  the  palace  was  so  common  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  or  night  that  no  voice  questioned  him,  no 
hindrance  was  placed  upon  his  actions,  no  tongue  reported  his 
movements.  He  passed  through  the  building  and  out  at  one 
of  its  smaller  entrances,  giving  upon  a  gate  in  the  wall.  The 
sentry  at  the  portal  allowed  him  to  pass,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  illustrious  rab  mag  of  Babylon  was  walking  sedately 
through  one  of  its  principal  streets  toward  his  own  princely 


THREE  WOMEN  153 

residence.  Not  one  of  the  persons  who  saluted  him  that  morn- 
ing could  judge  of  the  fires  of  rage,  ambition  and  disappoint- 
ment burning  so  fiercely  beneath  that  calm  and  dignified  ex- 
terior. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THREE    WOMEN 

Nitocris,  twice  queen  of  Babylon  and  born  princess  of  Egypt, 
of  all  women  on  earth  should  have  been  happy.  But  what 
happiness  can  life  hold  for  any  woman  of  high  and  lofty  senti- 
ments and  pure  heart,  wedded  to  a  man,  king  though  he  be, 
whose  tastes  and  desires  are  hardly  higher  than  a  beast's?  The 
mother  of  Sheshbazzar  was  as  much  above  her  husband  in  a 
spiritual  and  moral  sense  as  an  angel  is  above  the  best  of  man- 
kind. She  loathed  and  hated  her  sensual  drunken  husband  and 
that  loathing  extended  to  her  own  son,  the  offspring  of  a  dis- 
tasteful wedlock. 

Of  all  the  sentiments  of  human  souls  that  actuate  human 
actions,  duty  is  the  most  severe.  Duty  was  the  god  to  which 
Nitocris  bowed  with  all  the  ardor  of  the  sternest  devotee.  From 
that  terrible  hour  in  which  a  treacherous  sword  had  robbed  her 
of  a  husband  in  mind  and  soul  her  equal,  but  one  thought  had 
guided  her,  but  one  ambition  actuated  her.  From  that  hour  it 
became  her  duty,  a  duty  religiously  adhered  to,  to  avenge  her 
husband's  death  and  place  her  son  upon  his  father's  throne. 
When  in  the  agonizing  throes  of  child-birth  she  had  thought 
only  of  giving  Babylon  a  ruler.  On  through  the  perils  of  baby- 
hood (for  did  not  babies  wail  when  teething,  twenty-five  cen- 
turies ago)  she  had  watched  over  and  cared  for  the  helpless 
child,  always  thinking  of  the  future,  thinking  of  her  pride  at 
seeing  him  march  home  at  the  head  of  his  victorious  army,  fol- 
lowed by  long  trains  of  captives  and  treasure-laden  mules.  She 
had  dreamed  too  of  days  of  peace,  days  in  which  she  could  see 


RHESA 

her  artistic  dreams  for  the  city  worked  out.  She  had  dreamed 
of  noble  buildings  and  palatial  gardens,  the  result  of  her  plans 
but  carried  out  by  her  son. 

Then  came  the  murder  and  usurpation.  The  babe  was  res- 
cued but  never  more  would  he  know  a  mother's  care.  She  had 
watched  him  as  best  she  could.  Her  heart  leaped  at  seeing  him 
ruddy  and  sturdy,  playing  in  and  about  the  temple.  Then  came 
another  murder  and  usurpation,  landing  Nabonidos  upon  the 
throne.  One  day  a  royal  retinue  drew  up  before  the  humble 
cottage  in  which  her  widowhood  had  been  passed.  A  kneeling 
monarch  had  begged  her  to  become  his  queen.  Her  woman's 
nature  had  rebelled  against  being  forever  united  to  as  notorious 
a  libertine  as  was  the  pleading  king,  but  her  duty  again  con- 
trolled her.  That  she  might  be  the  better  enabled  to  further 
her  son's  interests  she  had  consented. 

One  day  she  had  realized  that  she  was  to  become  a  mother 
for  the  third  time.  Oh,  the  agony  of  the  thought.  A  child  to 
Nabonidos !  She  hated  the  unborn  embryo.  After  the  babe  was 
born,  a  weak  puny  thing,  her  mother  love  asserted  itself  for  a 
time  and  she  kept  the  spark  of  life  within  the  fragile  body. 
For  a  few  years  thereafter  her  mind  dwelt  upon  her  youngest 
child,  but  not  for  long.  Was  it  not  Nitocris  who  had  sug- 
gested to  the  king  the  summoning  to  the  palace  of  Nabomuran, 
the  chief  priest's  son,  he  who  excelled  all  others  in  athletic  and 
warlike  sports,  that  the  boy  Belshazzar  might  imbibe  some  of 
the  young  soldier's  qualities.  Incidentally  she  thus  brought 
the  young  man  to  the  king's  notice,  thereby  causing  his  prefer- 
ment. She  had  soon  discovered  Belshazzar's  weaknesses  and  she 
gave  up  all  hope  of  making  a  man  of  him.  She  therefore  began 
planning  for  her  firstborn. 

Many  and  many  a  time  had  she  endeavored  to  bring  about 
an  interview  with  her  son,  but  every  time  she  had  been  foiled. 
Her  position  as  queen  balked  her.  At  last,  desperate,  she  had 
boldly  sent  for  him  upon  the  night  of  the  banquet,  when  she 
knew  that  both  her  husband  and  her  younger  son  would  be 
safely  occupied. 


THREE  WOMEN  155 

This  fair  June  morning  she  sat  in  her  boudoir,  meditating 
upon  her  elder  son  and  his  prospects  in  life.  Elmura  her  little 
waiting  maid,  who  was  also  in  the  rab  mag's  employ,  came  in  to 
announce  the  presence  of  Ulbar  who  desired  an  immediate  audi- 
ence. Nitocris  arose  at  once  and  passed  through  the  archway 
into  the  reception  room. 

Ulbar  advanced  cautiously,  dropping  upon  one  knee  as  the 
queen  approached. 

"Is  all  well?"  inquired  the  queen  in  a  low  tone. 

In  a  like  manner  of  voice  the  little  man  told  her  of  Shesh- 
bazzar's  mishaps,  ending  with  an  account  of  his  escape.  Tears 
were  in  the  queen's  eyes  when  he  finished.  At  that  moment 
she  regretted  making  the  announcement  to  the  prince.  Sud- 
denly she  thought  of  how  the  rab  mag  had  obtained  his  informa- 
tion, and  she  turned  quickly  toward  Elmura  who  was  standing 
in  the  room  but  out  of  earshot. 

"Thou  little  traitress,"  she  cried,  "leave  me  at  once  and  never 
let  me  see  thy  face  again.  Thou  mayest  be  thankful  that  I  let 
thee  off  so  easily." 

The  maid  sulkily  left  the  room  and  the  queen  turned  again 
to  Ulbar. 

"Arise,"  she  said,  "he  who  saves  the  life  of  Babylon's  hope 
kneels  to  the  gods  alone." 

A  glad  smile  illumined  the  face  of  the  dwarf,  for  the  moment 
lessening  the  repulsiveness  of  his  features.  Such  words  were 
rare  in  his  ears,  he  who  had  always  served  hard  masters. 

"Wilt  thou  not  be  in  danger  as  a  result  of  thine  act?"  asked 
the  queen. 

"I  fear  no  one,"  he  replied,  "my  life  has  not  been  spent  in 
secret  ways  for  naught.  Oh  Bel,  that  mine  eyes  could  forget 
some  of  the  sights  they  have  seen." 

A  servant  entered  and  approached  the  queen. 

"A  Jewish  woman  desires  to  speak  with  thee  and  refuses  to 
go  until  she  has  seen  thee,"  he  said. 

"Bid  her  enter,"  commanded  Nitocris. 

A  white-clad  figure  entered  the  room. 


i56  RHESA 

"Bide  thou  here  a  few  moments,  Ulbar  and  I  will  speak  with 
thee  again.  Come,"  she  said  addressing  the  Jewess. 

The  queen  re-entered  her  boudoir,  followed  closely  by  the 
white-clad  figure.  When  they  were  inside  Nitocris  drew  the 
curtains  together  and  crossed  the  room  to  a  divan.  She  mo- 
tioned her  visitor  to  a  seat  beside  her  upon  the  divan. 

"I  know  who  thou  art,"  whispered  the  queen.  "Thou  art 
the  Jewish  girl  Sheshbazzar  loves.  Orma  I  think  was  the 
name." 

"I  am  Orma,  the  daughter  of  Nehum,"  was  the  girl's  simple 
answer. 

The  queen  took  hold  of  the  cape  that  her  visitor  wore  about 
her  head  and,  throwing  it  back  upon  her  shoulders,  gazed  earn- 
estly into  the  face  of  her  son's  beloved. 

"Ah,  Sheshbazzar!"  she  exclaimed.  "Who  can  blame  thee? 
Such  beauty  as  this  is  rare  even  in  Egypt." 

Orma  blushed  and  hung  her  head,  but  still  she  was  pleased. 
Why  should  she  not  be?  What  woman  but  would  like  to  be 
called  beautiful  by  another  whose  own  charms  were  praised  in 
many  lands? 

"I  come,"  said  Orma  presently,  "with  a  message  from  the 
prince.  He  has  escaped  from  the  hands  of  his  enemies  and  is 
now  far  outside  the  city.  He  journeys  toward  the  southwest, 
there  to  seek  a  home  among  the  wanderers  of  the  desert.  He 
knows  not  how  long  he  shall  be  gone.  Some  day  he  will  re- 
turn. Should  his  presence  be  required  before  he  returns  he 
bids  us  send  a  trusty  messenger  to  search  him  out." 

"Alas!"  cried  the  queen,  tears  springing  to  her  eyes,  "is  it 
thus  Babylon's  king  leaves  to  make  his  home  among  the  wild 
nomads  of  the  desert?" 

"Should  it  become  necessary  to  send  for  him  I  will  be  the 
messenger,"  said  Orma. 

"Thou?"  exclaimed  Nitocris.  "Why  girl,  it  would  be  fool- 
hardy in  thee." 

"Nay  queen,  I  only  have  seen  him  in  his  disguise  and  I  alone 
would  recognize  him." 


THREE  WOMEN  157 

Before  either  had  opportunity  to  continue  the  subject  an- 
other woman  entered.  It  was  Haslita  come  to  see  her  new- 
found mother,  for  on  the  morning  following  her  revelation  to 
Sheshbazzar,  Nitocris  had  taken  her  beautiful  daughter  in  her 
arms  and  told  her  all.  As  she  entered,  she  stopped  a  moment  in 
the  archway,  one  arm  upholding  the  heavy  curtain,  the  other 
hanging  loosely  by  her  side.  Her  lips  were  parted  from  sur- 
prise at  seeing  a  visitor  in  that  apartment  which  few  entered. 
As  she  stood  thus,  her  figure  clad  in  white  outlined  against  the 
dark  draperies,  she  made  a  picture  fit  for  a  master's  brush. 
Orma  gazed  upon  her  with  interest  and  admiration.  As  she 
gazed  she  thought  of  Sheshbazzar's  putting  her  beauty  before 
his  sister's  and  at  the  remembrance  she  smiled,  a  smile  that  the 
newcomer  construed  as  a  greeting.  Halista  advanced  to  the 
divan  and  bending  over  kissed  the  high  white  forehead  of  her 
queen-mother.  Then  as  if  actuated  by  a  sudden  impulse  she 
placed  one  arm  about  Orma's  neck  and  kissed  her  in  the  most 
sisterly  fashion. 

"This  dear  girl  brings  us  news  of  him  we  love,"  said  the 
queen. 

In  a  few  words  she  repeated  to  Halista  all  that  she  knew 
concerning  Sheshbazzar  and  his  present  whereabouts.  She  con- 
cluded with  Orma's  resolution  to  seek  out  the  prince  should  his 
presence  become  imperative. 

"I  will  go  with  thee,"  cried  Halista  enthusiastically. 

"When  will  be  the  proper  time  for  us  to  send  for  him?" 
asked  the  practical  queen. 

The  joyous  light  faded  from  four  black  eyes.  When,  ah 
when?  It  was  a  difficult  question.  In  all  Babylon  the  three 
women  seemed  to  be  alone.  They  wished  that  Sheshbazzar 
could  have  hidden  in  Babylon  where  they  could  seek  his  advice 
as  it  was  needed.  Long  they  continued  their  discussion. 

"Oh  that  I  were  a  man,"  cried  Nitocris.  "All  my  life  have 
I  felt  the  limitations  of  my  sex  but  never  so  fully  as  at  this 
moment.  If  we  were  three  men  instead  of  three  women  we 
could  lay  plans  and  carry  them  out.  As  it  is  we  are  helpless." 


i58  RHESA 

"Say  not  helpless,  mother.  A  woman's  influence  is  her  power. 
What  she  cannot  accomplish  alone  she  can  persuade  men  to  do 
for  her.  Can  we  not  plan  for  our  prince  and  enlist  men  to 
carry  out  our  plans?"  said  Halista. 

"Perhaps  we  can,"  replied  Nitocris. 

"How  many  men  are  there  we  can  rely  upon?"  asked  Hal- 
ista. 

"Let  me  see,"  mused  the  queen,  "there  is  Ulbar.  Then  we 
can  surely  be  confident  of  Belibus.  Thou  Halista,  can  enlist 
him  in  our  cause." 

"My  influence  in  that  direction  will  be  unnecessary,  mother," 
said  the  princess  blushing.  "Belibus  already  loves  the  prince  as 
a  brother." 

"With  Belibus  will  go  his  hundred  warriors,  all  men  of 
birth  and  influence.  Their  value  to  our 'cause  cannot  be  esti- 
mated." 

"Can  the  chief  priest  also  be  considered  ?"  asked  Orma,  loath 
to  obtrude  her  ideas  upon  them. 

"Surely,"  replied  the  queen  smiling,  "his  is  a  power  little  less 
than  the  king's." 

"Oh,"  she  cried  joyously,  "I  feel  as  if  our  prince  was  on  the 
road  to  the  throne  already." 

A  few  moments  later  Orma  announced  her  intention  of  de- 
parting. As  their  informal  meeting  broke  up  all  three  felt  that 
the  first  steps  of  an  infant  monarchy  had  been  taken,  but  as  the 
first  steps  of  even  the  greatest  men  are  slow,  weak  and  unsteady, 
so  this  plot  (if  that  unpleasant  word  must  be  used)  started 
weakly  and  uncertainly.  Would  that  we  could  describe  its 
footsteps  as  growing  stronger,  ever  stronger,  but  alas!  his- 
tory, that  stern  unbending  recorder  of  the  world's  events,  lays 
out  a  dead  line  for  the  romancer  and  seems  to  command :  "Thus 
far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther."  Already  up  in  the  north- 
east a  great  warrior,  backed  by  armies  almost  innumerable,  is 
laying  plans  and  how  can  the  plans  of  three  weak  women  stand 
before  the  desires  of  an  Asiatic  conqueror.  Still  from  out  that 
plot  emerged  men  and  women  tested  and  tried,  fitted  to  carry 


THREE  WOMEN  159 

on  a  work  far  more  important  than  the  resuscitation  of  a  dying 
empire,  a  work  whose  results  are  apparent  at  the  present  day. 

Orma  left  the  queen's  boudoir  in  spirits  raised  far  above 
their  wonted  level.  She  had  sat  beside  Babylon's  queen  and 
princess,  had  been  their  confidant,  but  above  all  they  had  silently, 
but  none  the  less  surely,  approved  of  her  as  the  prince's  love. 
Notwithstanding  their  present  relations,  forbidden  by  her  father 
to  meet,  Orma  felt  assured  that  such  love  as  theirs  would  sur- 
mount all  obstacles.  With  this  thought  in  her  mind  she  re- 
garded the  kindness  of  queen  and  princess  as  a  good  omen.  If 
only  Sheshbazzar  would  look  toward  Jehovah ! 

Muffled  in  her  cloak  in  order  to  hide  her  features,  she  passed 
out  through  the  queen's  reception  room,  where  Ulbar  still 
awaited  the  queen's  pleasure.  At  the  doorway  a  servant  stepped 
to  her  side.  He  conducted  her  through  the  many  halls  and  pas- 
sages leading  from  the  queen's  apartments  to  the  outer  portal. 
As  she  passed  out  she  brushed  against  a  man  just  entering  the 
building.  The  contact  caused  her  to  loosen  her  hold  upon  the 
cape  and  it  dropped  back  upon  her  shoulders.  Before  she  could 
replace  it,  the  man  had  thrown  one  quick  penetrating  glance 
into  her  face.  The  man  was  the  rab  mag,  Vulmaran.  Turn- 
ing to  a  young  fellow  standing  beside  the  doorway,  he  com- 
manded: "Follow  that  woman  and  report  to  me." 

Orma  passed  out  and  hurried  down  the  broad  steps.  She 
walked  rapidly  homeward,  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  the 
left.  All  the  way  from  the  palace  to  her  home  she  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  spy.  When  she  turned  into  the  pathway  leading  up 
to  the  house  he  quickly  noted  the  surroundings  and  withdrew. 

Meanwhile  an  interesting  interview  was  in  progress  at  the 
palace.  Vulmaran  was  hastening  to  the  presence  of  the  king 
when  he  accidentally  brushed  against  the  Jewess.  It  was  from 
no  spirit  of  idle  curiosity  that  the  wily  rab  mag  ordered  one 
of  his  many  tools  to  follow  her.  Not  for  a  single  moment 
had  the  miraculous  escape  of  Sheshbazzar  been  absent  from  his 
thoughts  but,  as  the  time  passed  into  hours  since  that  disappoint- 
ing moment  when  the  open  door  of  the  drowning  chamber  had 


160  RHESA 

revealed  to  him  the  failure  of  his  plans,  he  began  more  and 
more  to  doubt  the  miraculousness  of  the  prince's  escape.  Im- 
possible as  it  seemed,  some  person  or  persons  must  have  fath- 
omed the  secrets  of  the  drowning  chamber  and  planned  the 
successful  escape  of  the  prince. 

It  was  while  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  the  rab  mag  entered 
the  great  library  which  throughout  the  reigns  of  the  present 
monarchs  was  used  as  a  reception  room.  Both  kings  were  pres- 
ent and  alone,  a  most  opportune  moment  for  Vulmaran.  Not- 
withstanding that  the  government  of  Babylon  was  essentially 
despotic,  it  yet  embraced  certain  democratic  features,  chief  of 
which  was  the  accessibility  of  the  monarch.  No  ruler  of  modern 
times  is  more  easily  approached  on  matters  of  importance  than 
were  the  kings  of  Babylon.  Rarely  throughout  those  hours  of 
the  day  set  aside  for  the  affairs  of  state  were  the  monarchs 
alone  in  their  official  apartment. 

Vulmaran  approached  the  dais  upon  which  the  monarchs  sat 
in  their  twin  thrones.  He  bowed  low  with  the  studied  obse- 
quiousness that  he  always  affected. 

"May  the  blessings  of  our  lord,  Bel  rest  upon  thee  this  day 
and  may  his  favor  shine  upon  thee,"  he  said  deferentially. 

"Peace  be  with  thee,"  replied  the  elder  monarch. 

"How  prosper  matters?"  he  asked  almost  in  the  same  breath. 

"Badly,  very  badly,  O  King.    Our  prisoner  has  escaped." 

"Escaped !"  cried  Nabonidos,  springing  to  his  feet  and  bring- 
ing his  fist  down  upon  the  small  table  beside  his  throne.  "Then 
thou  shalt  be  held  responsible.  Unless  that  man  is  back  in  our 
prison  within  a  twelvemonth,  thou,  Vulmaran  shalt  die  in  his 
place." 

CHAPTER  XX 

FAREWELL  TO    HOME 

The  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  were  gilding  the  roof  of  the 
temple  shrine.  The  clear,  limpid  water  of  the  great  moat 


FAREWELL  TO  HOME  161 

without  the  outer  wall  rippled  against  the  brick  embankment, 
each  tiny  globule  a  glittering  crystal  of  light.  The  atmosphere 
was  hazy,  damp  with  the  early  mist  from  the  river.  All  was 
silent.  Dame  Nature  alone  was  awake.  Man,  the  creature  of 
the  day,  was  yet  sleeping,  unconscious  of  the  glories  that  he 
missed.  As  under  healthy  conditions  a  man  is  at  his  best  when 
he  first  awakes  from  slumber,  possessed  of  a  rested  body  and  a 
clear  mind,  so  methinks  it  is  with  Nature.  With  the  refreshing 
dew  still  undried  and  the  clear  rays  of  the  morning  sun  shining 
down  upon  her,  she  is  at  her  best.  The  birds  twitter  their 
sweetest  songs  after  their  first  drink  at  some  crystal  spring. 
The  insects  buzz  their  loudest.  The  hoarse  croaking  of  the 
frog  and  the  dismal  hoot  of  the  owl  are  hushed  for  the  time  and 
all  is  peaceful  and  serene. 

Upon  this  particular  June  morning  B.C.  539,  all  was  quiet 
and  peaceful.  The  luxuriant  vegetation  of  the  rich  Chaldean 
soil  swayed  gently  before  the  cool  breeze  from  the  south  that 
even  at  this  distance  carried  news  of  the  sea.  Birds  sang  and 
twittered  in  great  glee,  flitting  in  and  out  among  the  stalks  of 
golden  grain.  It  was  a  morning  to  gladden  the  heart,  yet  the 
only  human  being  among  these  beautiful  scenes  was  sad,  lonely 
and  oppressed.  Moreover  his  was  a  heart  unused  to  such  feel- 
ings, but  the  previous  happiness  only  accentuated  the  present 
misery. 

Upon  the  summit  of  the  first  hill  south  of  Babylon  that  was 
crossed  by  the  Borsipian  road  stood  a  tomb  that  for  the  era 
of  its  construction  was  a  work  of  some  magnitude.  Owing  to 
the  great  distance  it  had  to  be  transported,  stone  was  little  used 
for  building  purposes,  but  the  Babylonian  builder  used  brick 
to  an  extent  that  makes  his  achievements  a  wonder  to  moderns. 
Of  all  the  tombs  that  lined  the  great  thoroughfare,  the  one  men- 
tioned was  the  most  imposing.  Although  more  than  a  century 
and  a  half  old  it  was  in  a  condition  of  repair  and  preservation 
that  should  shame  us — for  think  of  the  resting  places  of  our 
heroes  who  have  been  dead  a  century  and  a  half  or  even  much 
less! 


1 62  RHESA 

The  tomb  was  constructed  of  sun-baked  brick  covered  with 
an  outside  course  of  kiln-baked  brick,  ornamented  with  bas-re- 
liefs. It  resembled  in  shape  a  small  chapel  and  was  approached 
by  a  flight  of  eight  broad  steps,  each  step  a  single  block  of  stone. 
The  opening  in  the  tomb  was  closed  by  a  single  slab  securely 
cemented  in  place.  This  stone  was  covered  with  inscriptions 
setting  forth  the  achievements  of  the  man  whose  dust  reposed 
within.  A  noble  record  it  was,  for  he  in  whose  honor  this 
structure  had  been  erected  was  none  other  than  the  great 
national  hero,  Merodach-Baladan. 

What  William  Wallace  was  to  Scotland  this  warrior  chief- 
tain was  to  Babylonia.  For  many  years  he  had  resisted  the 
inroads  of  Assyria.  At  length  he  had  been  captured  and  car- 
ried prisoner  to  Nineveh.  He  escaped  from  his  prison  soon  after 
the  death  of  Sargon  and  again  assumed  the  rule  of  his  land ;  but 
all  in  vain.  After  a  brief  reign  he  was  defeated  by  Sennacherib 
(B.C.  7°3)  and  driven  into  exile  where  he  died.  Ten  years 
after  his  death  a  few  faithful  followers  sought  his  grave,  carried 
his  remains  to  Babylon  and  over  them  erected  this  mausoleum. 

Upon  the  lower  of  the  eight  steps  leading  up  to  the  tomb, 
sat  a  traveler,  the  only  human  figure  in  the  vast  scene  of  beauty 
our  feeble  pen  has  sought  to  describe.  His  face  was  buried  in 
his  hands  and  an  occasional  sob  escaped  him.  His  whole  atti- 
tude was  expressive  of  the  deepest  dejection.  Beneath  at  his 
feet  a  tiny  lark  picking  here  and  there  and  chirping  contentedly, 
would  occasionally  lift  its  pretty  head  and  eye  the  traveler 
curiously,  its  little  brain  unable  to  understand  how  anyone  could 
be  sad  this  morning. 

At  length  the  traveler  raised  his  head  and  straightened  him- 
self with  an  air  of  determination.  He  looked  about  him  as  if 
ashamed  of  having  given  way  before  his  grief  and  fearful  lest 
some  spectator  had  seen  his  weakness.  The  skin  and  dress  were 
those  of  an  Arab  wanderer;  the  features  were  those  of  Shesh- 
bazzar,  prince  of  Babylon.  He  arose,  pushed  back  the  long 
hair  from  his  forehead  and  made  a  complete  survey  of  his  sur- 
roundings. Then  turning  about,  he  faced  the  tomb.  Noticing 


FAREWELL  TO  HOME  163 

the  inscription  upon  the  stone  door  he  ascended  the  steps  and 
knelt  upon  the  topmost  one  while  he  perused  the  record  of  the 
dead  hero.  After  a  careful  examination  he  arose  and  took  one 
step  backward.  Throwing  up  his  arms  toward  Heaven,  he 
cried : 

"Oh  Merodach,  grant  that  the  fate  of  this  great  man  may 
not  be  mine.  Grant  that  the  end  he  failed  to  reach  may  be 
reached  by  me.  Grant  that  the  loving  government  he  dreamed 
of,  I  may  establish.  Now,  Father  Merodach  go  with  me.  Let 
thy  blessing  follow  me  wherever  I  go.  Carry  me  through  the 
dangers  and  trials  of  the  desert  and  bring  me  back  in  safety 
to  mine  own  land  and  mine  own  people." 

He  turned  away  from  the  tomb  and  gazed  up  and  down  the 
road.  A  sign  of  life  in  the  direction  of  Babylon  arrested  his 
attention.  Shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  he  gazed  long  and 
earnestly  at  the  object.  A  horseman  was  surely  approaching 
and  even  at  this  distance  the  fugitive  could  see  by  the  man's 
carriage  that  he  was  a  soldier.  Escape  was  impossible,  so  Shesh- 
bazzar  seated  himself  upon  the  steps  to  await  the  passing  of 
the  horseman.  He  hoped  that  he  would  be  unnoticed  or,  if 
seen,  he  hoped  that  his  disguise  was  complete  enough  to  pro- 
tect him.  The  horse's  hoof  beats  sounded  clear  and  distinct 
upon  the  hard  surface  of  the  road.  As  the  man  approached  the 
exile  raised  his  head  in  wonder.  Surely  his  eyes  saw  something 
familiar  about  the  steed  whose  stride  was  so  long,  whose  head 
was  held  so  high  and  whose  small  hoofs  seemed  to  spurn  the 
ground.  No!  It  cannot  be!  Yes!  It  is,  it  is!  The  approach- 
ing horse  was  Saru,  the  prince's  own  faithful  steed.  A  moment 
later  the  rider  was  also  recognized.  The  prince  waved  his 
hand,  and  the  horse  came  to  a  standstill.  Its  rider  threw  him- 
self to  the  ground.  The  prince  ran  joyously  to  meet  him  and 
embraced  him  warmly.  When  they  separated  he  turned  to 
fondle  Saru.  After  petting  the  horse  for  a  moment  he  turned 
again  to  the  rider. 

"Tell  me  my  Belibus,  what  brings  thee  abroad  this  morn- 
ing," he  said. 


164  RHESA 

"I  am  come,  Prince  Sheshbazzar ,"  began  the  new  com- 
mander of  the  Winged  Lions. 

"Why  callest  thou  me  by  that  name?"  interrupted  the  prince. 

"Fear  not,  my  prince.  Thy  name  and  titles  are  now  known 
unto  me  and  here,  by  the  tomb  of  the  great  soldier  whose  mem- 
ory we  revere,  I  give  thee  mine  homage  and  offer  thee  my 
sword,  my  life  and  all  I  have." 

"Arise  my  brother,"  commanded  the  fugitive.  "It  is  not 
right  that  the  general  of  the  king  should  kneel  to  a  man  with- 
out a  name,  without  a  home,  without  a  country." 

"Nay,  prince,  'tis  to  the  descendant  of  the  great  Nebuchad- 
nezzar that  I  kneel.  Who  was  it,  prince,  that  selected  from 
among  the  troopers  of  the  Winged  Lions  one  of  the  poorest 
members  of  the  band  and  raised  him  to  the  position  of  lieu- 
tenant? I  tell  thee,  sir,  my  gratitude  for  that  act  shall  last 
forever." 

"Belibus,  thou  art  indeed  a  friend.  What  other  man  in  Baby- 
lon would  risk  reputation,  even  life,  to  come  after  me  and  bring 
me  my  horse.  Yea  Belibus,  I  perceive  thy  intention;  I  accept 
thy  service  and  right  glad  am  I  to  have  the  company  of  this 
noble  animal  in  my  wanderings.  Return  now  my  friend  and 
brother.  Reach  the  city  before  thine  absence  can  be  noticed. 
The  memory  of  thine  act  shall  accompany  me  and  comfort  me 
in  the  dark  hours  that  I  realize  lie  ahead." 

A  glance  at  the  sun  called  attention  to  the  flight  of  time.  It 
was  expedient,  therefore,  that  they  should  part.  After  a  final 
embrace  they  kissed  and  with  a  parting  word,  separated.  A 
moment  later  a  thought  came  to  the  prince  and  he  called  Belibus 
back. 

"Remember  me  to  the  queen  and  Halista.  Thou  hast  my 
approval  of  thy  love  for  the  princess,  Belibus.  I  knew  not  of 
thy  feelings  until  Nergalshazzar  spoke  of  them,  but  nothing 
would  give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to  hail  thee  as  brother. 
My  mother  and  sister  will  hear  of  me  through  Orma.  I 
stopped  there  early  this  morning  and  saw  her  father.  He  kindly 
called  his  daughter  and  I  had  opportunity  of  bidding  my  love 


FAREWELL  TO  HOME  165 

farewell.  I  give  her  into  thy  charge,  Belibus.  Watch  over  her 
and  see  that  no  harm  befalls  her. 

"Ere  a  twelvemonth  passes  I  will  be  back  with  thee  again. 
Should  my  presence  be  desired  before  I  return  I  can  be  found 
among  the  tribes  of  the  desert.  Send  for  me  if  I  am  needed. 
Let  the  mesenger  but  tell  the  story  of  yonder  Merodach-Bala- 
dan,  his  wars  and  his  loves  and  I  will  make  myself  known. 
One  more  word,  Belibus;  who  told  thee  of  my  name  and  rank 
and  directed  thee  as  to  my  route?" 

"Ulbar,"  answered  the  soldier. 

"So  I  thought.  Now  again  farewell,  my  Belibus.  May  the 
gods  keep  and  prosper  thee." 

"Farewell  my  prince.  May  Bel  go  with  thee  and  bring  thee 
back  again  in  safety  to  rule  thy  country  and  thy  people." 

They  embraced  again  and  then  parted.  The  pseudo-Arab 
mounted  Saru  and  the  gallant  soldier  turned  toward  Babylon. 
Sheshbazzar  rode  to  the  summit  of  the  next  elevation  and  drew 
rein,  turning  in  his  saddle  for  a  last  look  upon  the  city  of  his 
love. 

"Ah  Babylon,"  he  cried,  "is  this  the  way  thou  sendest  forth 
thy  rightful  sovereign  ?  Clad  in  the  vestures  of  a  wanderer  and 
with  darkened  skin,  he  leaves  thee  in  the  night  when  thou 
sleepest  and  cannot  bid  him  farewell.  He  shall  return  unto  his 
mistress  and  she  shall  bow  before  him.  She  sends  him  forth 
without  a  parting  word.  She  shall  welcome  him  again  with 
trumpets." 

After  thus  addressing  the  proud  city,  he  took  a  last  long 
look  as  a  man  would  gaze  upon  his  love.  Then  turning  about, 
he  chirruped  to  Saru.  The  horse  darted  forward  down  the 
opposite  declivity  and  in  a  moment  Babylon  was  lost  to  view, 
save  only  for  the  topmost  pinnacle  of  the  great  temple. 

An  hour  and  a  half  later  he  galloped. through  the  low  arch- 
way into  the  court  of  the  great  khan  at  Borsippa.  The  first 
stage  of  his  journey  was  over.  Here  he  decided  to  spend  the 
night,  hoping  thereby  to  find  a  congenial  company  that  would 
accept  him  as  a  traveling  companion.  The  many  bands  who 


1 66  RHESA 

had  journeyed  to  Babylon  to  witness  the  coronation  were  now 
returning  to  their  homes,  and  he  hoped  to  find  among  them  one 
that  would  give  him  company  and  shelter. 

The  Lion  of  Borsippa  was  without  doubt  the  foremost  hos- 
telry of  ancient  times.  Located  as  it  was  in  the  holy  city  of  the 
great  empire  whither  thousands  journeyed  annually  to  pay  their 
homage  to  Nebo,  its  patronage  was  extensive.  It  was  a  low 
rambling  sort  of  building,  but  with  an  imposing  facade  upon  the 
temple  street.  It  was  built  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square  and 
occupied  an  entire  city  block.  It  was  within  hailing  distance 
of  the  great  temple,  the  magnet  that  drew  the  crowds  hither. 
The  khan  faced  upon  the  temple  street  but  its  entrance  was 
upon  the  highway  here  known  as  the  Babylonian  road.  The 
entrance  was  a  low  vaulted  archway  surmounted  by  a  great 
clay  lion. 

As  Sheshbazzar  alighted  in  the  courtyard  a  servant  and  a  boy 
advanced  to  meet  him.  The  boy  took  charge  of  the  horse 
while  the  servant  conducted  the  traveler  to  his  apartment.  They 
traversed  the  entire  length  of  the  courtyard,  passing  interesting 
groups,  representative  of  all  the  surroundings  nations.  The 
apartment  assigned  the  prince  was  in  the  farther  corner  of  the 
building.  He  entered  and  made  a  hasty  survey  of  the  room. 
Its  furnishings  though  simple  were  yet  complete.  The  exile 
was  satisfied  with  his  accommodations.  In  his  present  weary 
state  no  couch  would  be  unacceptable.  A  glance  at  the  sun 
showed  the  nearness  of  the  dinner  hour.  The  prince  took  one  of 
the  stools  and  carried  it  out  into  the  courtyard,  and  seated  him- 
self thereon,  intending  to  while  away  the  time  until  dinner  was 
served  by  watching  his  fellow  guests. 

Various  groups  of  travelers  were  scattered  about  the  court- 
yard, but  the  solitary  exile  was  concerned  with  but  one.  Near 
the  center  of  the  enclosure  was  camped  a  company  of  Arabs, 
such  a  band  as  he  hoped  to  join.  He  watched  them  intently 
as  they  spread  their  gaily  colored  cloths  upon  the  hard  brick 
floor  of  the  courtyard  and  prepared  their  meal.  This  was  a 
privilege  accorded  guests,  they  being  allowed  even  to  construct 


FAREWELL  TO  HOME  167 

booths  and  pitch  tents  within  the  enclosure.  The  party  of 
Arabs  consisted  of  a  dozen  or  more  persons,  including  three 
women  and  two  children.  The  leader  was  a  young  man  of  pre- 
possessing appearance,  tall  and  straight  with  long  flowing  black 
hair,  eyes  the  hue  of  an  Arabian  night  and  a  complexion  of  rich 
brown. 

Everything  about  the  young  man  drew  the  fugitive  toward 
him.  As  his  eyes  followed  the  sheik,  the  determination  to  form 
his  acquaintance  and  seek  permission  to  join  the  band  came  into 
the  prince's  mind.  His  intention  was  postponed,  however,  by 
the  summons  to  dinner.  The  fugitive  hurried  across  the  yard 
to  the  long  apartment  where  the  meals  were  served. 

When  he  passed  the  group  of  Arabs  upon  his  return  from 
dinner,  they  had  not  only  finished  partaking  of  their  refresh- 
ments but  all  vestiges  of  victuals  and  utensils  had  been  removed. 
The  exile  lingered  about  the  group,  hoping  to  find  the  leader 
that  he  might  prefer  his  request,  but  the  sheik  had  disappeared. 
Sheshbazzar  returned  to  his  apartment.  He  removed  his  outer 
garment  and  lay  down  upon  the  couch.  In  a  moment  he  was 
asleep. 

The  afternoon  was  well  advanced  when  he  awoke  and  sat 
up.  After  rearranging  his  costume  he  left  the  room  and  strolled 
out  into  the  courtyard.  He  found  the  young  sheik  standing 
alone  beside  a  tent  his  band  had  erected.  The  prince  hastened 
to  the  Arab's  side. 

"May  I  have  a  word  with  thee?"  he  asked. 

The  Arab  turned  quickly  and  made  a  rapid  survey  of  the 
prince's  person. 

"Say  on  stranger.    I  listen,"  he  said. 

"It  is  unnecessary  to  ask  for  secrecy,  I  trust,"  said  the  prince. 

"Stranger,"  returned  the  Arab,  "the  ears  of  Almada  are 
open  but  his  mouth  is  closed." 

"Then  good  Almada,"  continued  the  fugitive,  "I  am  not 
what  my  appearance  denotes.  I  am  not  an  Arab  but  a  Baby- 
Ipnian.  I  am  an  exile  driven  I  know  not  whither,  a  man 


168  RHESA 

forced  to  leave  country,  loved  ones,  everything  earth  holds 
dear  and  seek  a  home  among  strangers. 

"From  the  moment  I  entered  this  place  I  have  intended  to 
speak  with  thee.  Now  is  the  time  when  we  are  alone.  There- 
fore, good  Almada,  I  ask  thee  to  take  me  into  thy  party  and 
let  me  accompany  thee  on  thy  way.  Let  me  journey  with  thee. 
Where  thou  tentest  I  will  tent;  where  thou  eatest  I  will  eat; 
where  thou  drinkest  I  will  drink.  If  thou  hast  wars  they  shall 
be  my  wars  and  I  will  draw  my  sword  as  one  of  thine  own 
people.  I  ask  naught  but  thy  comradeship  and  friendship.  That 
which  I  eat  and  drink  I  can  pay  thee  for." 

"Stranger,  thou  askest  much.  We  are  a  strange  people,  lov- 
ing only  our  own,  wandering  from  place  to  place,  searching 
for  grass  and  water  and  a  market  for  our  wares.  We  have  no 
homes  save  yonder  tents  of  skin ;  we  have  no  abiding  place  save 
the  desert.  Each  night  we  camp  at  a  different  spot ;  each  morn- 
ing we  are  on  our  way  again.  Sometimes  we  are  hungry ;  often 
we  are  thirsty.  It  is  a  hard  poor  life,  especially  for  one  used 
to  the  courts  of  yonder  brilliant  city.  Still  such  as  is  our  life, 
thou  art  welcome  to  share  it  if  thou  wilt." 

"Thanks,  noble  Almada,"  said  the  prince  gratefully.  "Hence- 
forth I  am  one  of  thy  tribe." 

"Thy  name,  stranger?"  asked  the  sheik. 

"Kadasman,"  replied  the  exile. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  REBEL  IN  PRISON 

When  Heber  the  son  of  Nehum  acknowledged  himself  van- 
quished by  that  tower  of  might,  Belibus,  he  passed  into  the  old 
palace  as  ordered.  He  kept  his  honor  sacredly  and  when,  after 
the  death  of  Nergalshazzar,  the  soldiers  returned  to  their  duties 
he  was  found  seated  upon  a  divan  in  the  great  hall  of  the 
building. 


A  REBEL  IN  PRISON  169 

"True  to  thy  word,  I  see,"  said  Belibus. 

"I  am  here,  sir,"  replied  Heber,  "awaiting  my  fate  whatever 
it  may  be." 

"That  is  not  my  affair,"  answered  Belibus.  "It  is  my  duty  to 
turn  thee  over  to  the  king's  guard.  Thou  wilt  have  a  trial  and 
receive  whatever  sentence  the  king  sees  fit  to  bestow." 

"Rather  I  had  met  death  at  thy  hands  than  be  executed  at 
the  king's  command,"  said  Heber. 

"I  have  never  yet  slain  a  man  after  he  acknowledged  him- 
self vanquished,"  replied  the  lieutenant  coldly. 

Heber  was  placed  in  the  charge  of  two  soldiers  who  guarded 
him  through  the  remainder  of  the  night.  The  following  morn- 
ing, the  coronation  day,  he  was  carried  across  the  river  to  the 
palace,  hurriedly  tried  and  promptly  sentenced  to  death.  Inv 
mediately  after  sentence  had  been  passed  he  was  blindfolded 
and  led  down  through  the  labyrinth  to  the  prison  beneath  the 
river.  He  was  placed  in  a  cell,  the  door  was  securely  fastened 
and  the  guard  left  him  alone  to  himself  and  his  thoughts. 

After  the  door  of  his  cell  had  been  closed  and  barred  Heber 
took  an  inventory  of  his  surroundings.  As  a  cell  almost  the 
exact  counterpart  of  this  has  already  figured  in  these  pages 
a  description  would  be  a  useless  repetition.  If  anything  Heber's 
cell  was  more  comfortable  than  the  one  subsequently  occupied 
by  Sheshbazzar.  It  was  one  tier  higher  up  and  therefore  nearer 
the  light  and  air  that  came  down  through  the  labyrinthian  pas- 
sages. One  feature  of  this  prison  was  the  classification  of  its 
inmates.  Beginning  near  the  entrance  the  cells  were  large, 
well  lighted  and  ventilated.  From  these  they  graded  down 
to  the  damp  dark  dungeons  of  the  lowest  tier.  Thus  mild 
offenders  had  a  comparatively  comfortable  incarceration,  even 
though  it  might  be  for  life,  while  such  unfortunates  as  aroused 
the  deepest  anger  of  the  king  were  thrust  into  the  deepest  dun- 
geon, there  to  rot  their  life  away  in  a  manner  unimaginable 
to  modern  minds;  unless  perchance  they  were  soon  sent  to  the 
drowning  chamber,  which  death,  horrible  though  it  was,  was 
yet  preferable  to  the  slow  rot  of  a  long  imprisonment. 


i7o  RHESA 

The  two  first  days  of  Heber's  confinement  passed  unevent- 
fully. His  mind  was  not  thoroughly  alive  to  his  approaching 
fate,  nor  did  contrition  for  his  deeds  yet  disturb  him.  Upon 
arising  on  the  third  morning,  however,  the  realization  of  his 
sentence  came  upon  him  with  a  suddenness  and  vividness  that 
was  crushing.  He  knew  death  to  be  in  store  for  him  but  in 
accordance  with  the  custom  of  Nabonidos,  no  time  was  set  for 
his  execution.  It  might  come  at  any  moment  or  it  might  be 
deferred  indefinitely.  It  was  the  refinement  of  cruelty  to  com- 
pel a  prisoner  to  arise  each  morning  with  the  feeling  that  it 
might  be  his  last  day  on  earth. 

Heber  sat  upon  the  edge  of  his  cot.  He  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands.  The  face  thus  hidden  was  ashen  gray,  his  muscles 
were  tense  and  stiff,  cold  beads  of  perspiration  stood  upon  his 
forehead.  Youth  and  death  are  antipodes.  To  old  age  death 
appears  as  a  kind  reliever;  to  the  youth  he  is  a  horrible  monster 
whose  coming  is  the  one  great  calamity  to  be  dreaded.  Yet 
how  familiar  he  is  to  youth.  How  oft  does  he  pass  by  the  de- 
crepit and  seize  a  man  in  the  very  prime  of  his  strength.  Thus 
to  Heber  his  approaching  death  was  a  horrible  nightmare.  He 
endeavored  to  fix  his  mind  upon  other  matters,  his  home,  his 
loved  ones,  but  his  will  was  not  sufficiently  strong  to  enable  him 
to  govern  his  thoughts.  Ever  his  mind  dwelt  upon  his  fate  and 
upon  that  alone. 

His  mood  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  a  slave  bearing 
his  plain  breakfast.  His  entrance  aroused  Heber  and  the  con- 
demned man  arose  to  greet  the  slave.  No  expressions  of  kind- 
ness or  sympathy  could  he  discover  upon  that  dark  forbidding 
countenance.  The  slave  neither  spoke  to  nor  looked  at  the 
prisoner.  Heber  endeavored  to  question  him. 

"When  am  I  to  suffer  the  death?"  he  asked. 

The  slave  shook  his  head  and  opening  his  mouth,  pointed  into 
the  tongueless  cavity.  The  slaves  of  the  royal  prison  told  no 
tales! 

This  day  was  the  longest  of  Heber's  whole  life.  His  cell 
was  so  located  that  day  and  night  were  easily  distinguished.  In- 


A  REBEL  IN  PRISON  171 

deed  at  midday  his  eye  could  take  in  all  his  surroundings, 
whereas  on  the  tier  below  a  prisoner  was  obliged  to  grope  at 
all  hours.  Therefore  when  the  light  began  to  dwindle  Heber 
knew  that  evening  was  approaching  and  he  began  to  look  for- 
ward to  his  supper.  The  same  slave  came  shortly  bearing  a 
supper  the  exact  duplicate  of  his  breakfast.  After  the  slave 
withdrew  Heber  attacked  the  food  with  great  gusto,  although 
it  consisted  only  of  a  coarse  wheaten  cake  and  a  jug  of  water. 
Where  a  man  is  allowed  but  two  meals  a  day,  all  food  is 
acceptable. 

After  the  slave  had  returned  and  carried  away  the  empty 
dishes  Heber  stretched  himself  upon  the  couch.  As  he  lay 
there  in  the  dim  twilight  the  events  of  the  past  few  days  passed 
in  review  before  him.  They  so  crowded  upon  one  another  as  to 
form  a  confused  mass  in  his  brain.  Particularly  did  his  mind 
dwell  upon  the  days  spent  in  the  desert,  when  day  after  day 
he  rode  beside  the  young  chieftain  who  had  been  so  kind  a  mas- 
ter. This  train  of  thought  led  him  gradually  to  the  beautiful 
Tirmar  for  love  of  whom  he  had  taken  part  in  the  rebellion. 
His  brow  clouded  as  he  thought  of  his  evil  genius,  but  even 
at  this  moment  he  realized  how  completely  he  was  within  her 
power  and  how,  were  she  present  she  would  rule  him.  He  began 
to  feel  less  dread  for  the  death  that  would  release  his  soul  from 
such  bondage. 

In  his  present  frame  of  mind  sleep  was  impossible  and  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  lain  awake  all  night,  living  his  life 
over  and  over  again.  He  realized  this  himself  and  it  was  there- 
fore a  relief  when  he  heard  the  bar  of  his  door  being  removed. 
A  moment  later  a  slave,  his  regular  attendant,  entered  and 
after  placing  a  lighted  lamp  upon  the  floor,  instantly  withdrew. 
As  he  passed  out  another  man  entered.  He  was  plainly  attired 
but  was  evidently  a  civil  officer  of  some  rank;  at  least  his  dress 
showed  he  was  not  of  the  army.  The  slave  closed  the  door 
and  remained  outside  on  guard. 

Heber  arose  from  his  couch  and  faced  his  visitor.  But  one 
thought  was  suggested  by  this  visitation : 


1 72  RHESA 

"I  suppose  the  time  of  my  execution  has  arrived,"  he  said  put- 
ting on  a  bold  face. 

"Nay,"  replied  the  newcomer.  "'Tis  life  not  death  I  bring. 
Mine  is  a  pleasant  errand.  I  am  come  to  make  thee  a  free 
man." 

"Then  the  king  has  pardoned  me,"  cried  Heber,  to  whose 
mind  the  likelihood  of  such  an  act  had  been  ever  present. 

"Hush,  not  so  rapidly,"  said  the  officer  in  his  soft,  pleasant 
tones  and  holding  up  his  right  hand  as  if  to  command  silence. 
"The  king  knows  nothing  of  this  visit,  nor  need  he  ever  know. 
I  am  the  rab  mag.  To  me  is  entrusted  the  solemn  duty  of  exe- 
cuting or  of  pardoning.  Only  the  king  has  more  power  than 
I." 

So  Vulmaran  was  paying  another  midnight  visit  to  the  prison. 
Surely  the  illustrious  rab  mag  never  slept. 

"If  I  am  not  pardoned  how  speakest  thou  of  freedom?"  asked 
Heber. 

"It  is  I  and  not  the  king  who  would  make  thee  free,  my 
boy,"  answered  the  rab  mag  in  his  smoothest  tones. 

"Is  there  a  condition  to  my  pardon?"  asked  Heber  slightly 
suspicious. 

"I  would  require  of  thee  some  little  service,"  was  the  reply. 

"Is  it  a  service  that  I  can  honorably  accept?" 

"It  is  a  service  of  the  greatest  honor;  a  service  that  will  save 
the  empire  from  destruction." 

"Of  what  benefit  would  it  be  to  a  Jew  to  save  this  empire?" 

"Even  a  Jew  may  value  his  own  life,"  insinuated  Vul- 
maran. 

Heber  hesitated.  While  not  a  man  possessed  of  keen  per- 
ceptive faculties  he  yet  saw  that  the  rab  mag  had  some  unusual 
task  he  wished  performed.  He  realized  that  convicted  men  were 
not  given  life  and  liberty  for  nothing.  The  desire  to  save  him- 
self was  growing  strong  with  him.  A  few  moments  before  he 
had  thought  himself  prepared  to  meet  death  bravely  if  not 
willingly.  Now  one  word  of  hope  had  demolished  the  whole 
carefully  raised  structure. 


A  REBEL  IN  PRISON  173 

Heber  was  of  a  weak  nature.  A  superior  will  could  always 
lead  him.  Even  at  the  present  moment,  when  his  better  self 
commanded  him  to  refuse  the  rab  mag's  offer,  fully  suspecting 
the  service  required  to  be  of  a  treacherous  nature,  he  realized 
that  he  must  eventually  yield  if  Vulmaran  persisted.  The  latter 
watched  the  Jew  closely,  noting  every  expression  of  his  face 
that  might  furnish  a  clue  to  the  thoughts  behind.  When  he 
deemed  the  moment  propitious  he  renewed  the  attack. 

"Be  seated,"  he  said  pointing  to  the  couch. 

Vulmaran  drew  up  a  stool  and  seated  himself  close  beside 
his  victim.  He  leaned  over  and  spoke  directly  into  the  young 
man's  face. 

"Listen  to  me,"  he  said.  "Thou  hast  never  heard  of  it  but 
in  this  building  there  is  a  strange  chamber  used  for  a  strange 
purpose.  It  is  called  a  drowning  chamber  and  in  it  the  worst 
offenders  are  executed.  For  minor  offences  the  sword  is  the 
mode  of  execution,  but  for  such  crimes  as  thine  this  wonderful 
room  is  used.  The  prisoner  is  bound  to  a  stout  chair,  bound  so 
securely  that  he  cannot  move  a  muscle.  Then  a  gate  is  opened 
and  water  commences  flowing  into  the  room.  It  runs  slowly, 
very  slowly  and  the  prisoner  watches  it  as  inch  by  inch  it  rises, 
cold  and  merciless.  There  is  always  a  lighted  lamp  left  in  the 
room  so  the  prisoner  will  have  no  difficulty  in  watching  the 
water.  The  greater  the  king's  displeasure  the  more  slowly 
runs  the  water.  It  mounts  slowly  upward  over  the  prisoner's 
feet  to  his  knees,  and  up  from  his  knees  to  his  waist.  On,  on  it 
goes,  up  to  his  shoulders,  to  his  mouth,  to  his  nose,  and 
then ,"  the  rab  mag  shrugged  his  shoulders  suggestively. 

Heber  sat  as  still  as  a  statue.  Cold  drops  of  perspiration 
stood  out  on  his  forehead  as  the  realistic  narrative  of  Vulmaran 
progressed.  His  long  black  hair  clustered  about  his  forehead  in 
damp  ringlets.  His  whole  being  was  unnerved.  He  was  as 
helpless  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter.  The  rab  mag  saw  his 
advantage  and  was  quick  to  follow  it  up. 

"This,  my  dear  young  friend,  is  the  punishment  I  am  ordered 
to  mete  out  to  thee  this  night.  My  orders  are  to  let  the  water 


174  RHESA 

run  its  slowest.  I  shall  obey  my  instructions  to  the  letter  unless 
thou  availest  thyself  of  my  offer." 

He  paused  for  a  moment  but  Heber  remained  silent. 

"Well  sir,  which  is  it;  life  or  death?  I  shall  waste  no  more 
time  with  thee.  Decide  now,"  said  Vulmaran  impatiently. 

"Name  thy  conditions,"  said  Heber  weakly.  The  rab  mag 
smiled. 

"Listen,"  he  continued.  "Last  night  a  man  was  taken  into 
yonder  chamber  to  suffer  the  death  he  fully  deserved.  He  was 
securely  bound  to  the  chair;  the  door  was  closed  and  secured. 
The  water  was  turned  on  and  those  without  waited  patiently 
for  the  chamber  to  do  its  work.  When  the  proper  length  of 
time  had  elapsed  the  door  was  opened.  Inside  stood  the  empty 
chair.  The  prisoner  was  gone  and  the  walls  of  the  room  were 
dry.  Some  powerful  friends  of  the  man  had  rescued  him  in  a 
manner  deemed  impossible.  Thus,  O  Jew,  was  the  will  of  the 
king  thwarted  and  as  I  was  in  charge  of  the  execution  the  king 
holds  me  responsible.  Unless  that  man  is  captured  within  a 
twelvemonth  I  shall  receive  the  death  intended  for  him.  Now 
then,  young  man,  I  offer  thee  life  and  liberty  if  thou  wilt  follow 
the  escaped  prisoner  and  when  he  is  located  bring  me  word. 
What  is  it  now,  life  or  death?" 

Heber  hesitated  but  an  instant.  The  task  seemed  small 
enough. 

"I  accept  thy  conditions,"  he  said. 

"Good!"  exclaimed  the  rab  mag.  "I  will  now  give  thee  a 
few  instructions  for  thy  guidance.  I  have  provided  clothing  to 
disguise  thee  and  gold  to  pay  thy  way.  Here  is  a  pass  that 
enables  thee  to  get  through  any  gate.  Thou  wilt  leave  the  city 
by  the  Sippara  road  and  journey  northwards.  Ulbar  informs 
me  that  a  man  whose  description  tallies  with  that  of  him  we 
seek  was  seen  yesterday  journeying  northwards  from  the  city. 
I  suspect  he  will  join  the  Medes  and  bring  them  down  upon  us. 
Follow  him  to  the  end  of  the  world  if  needs  be  and  if  thou 
findest  him,  wealth  and  honor  shall  be  thine." 

"How  looks  the  man  and  what  is  his  name?"  asked  Heber. 


HEBER'S  QUEST  175 

"He  is  dressed  all  in  white.  He  is  tall  and  dark  and  hand- 
some. He  wears  a  black  beard.  As  for  his  name,  it  is  Shesh- 
bazzar,  but  he  is  known  unto  thee  as  Nabomuran." 

"Oh,  my  God!    My  master!"  cried  Heber. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
HEBER'S  QUEST 

Shortly  after  daybreak  Heber  left  the  city  by  the  Sippara 
road.  He  was  attired  as  a  Babylonian  officer  and  mounted 
upon  a  fine  horse.  To  all  appearances  he  was  an  ordinary 
horseman  bound  upon  a  peaceful  if  not  an  enjoyable  journey. 
He  carried  only  the  lightest  of  arms  and  armor  barely  sufficient 
to  protect  himself  from  wild  animals.  Slung  from  his  saddle 
in  a  neat  roll  was  a  heavy  cloak  to  wear  should  he  be  obliged 
to  sleep  under  Heaven's  roof  alone  or  in  case  his  quest  carried 
him  into  northern  latitudes. 

The  road  at  this  hour  was  deserted  and  Heber  had  only  his 
own  gloomy  thoughts  as  companions.  The  announcement  of 
the  name  of  the  man  whom  he  was  to  track  had  been  a  great 
blow  and  for  an  instant  he  contemplated  refusing  to  accept  his 
life  upon  such  terms,  but  Vulmaran's  description  of  the  mode 
of  death  in  store  for  him  had  been  all  too  vivid  and  the  young 
man  lacked  the  strength  to  deliberately  choose  that  death.  So 
here  he  was  started  upon  the  long  chase  after  the  man  he  loved. 

Heber  supposed  himself  upon  his  master's  track  and  felt 
assured  he  would  ultimately  find  him.  What  action  to  take  in 
that  contingency  was  the  question  now  troubling  him  as  he  rode 
along.  His  former  love  for  the  Babylonian  had  long  since 
returned  and  now  fully  possessed  him.  It  was  greater  than 
ever  before.  Therefore  he  liked  not  the  idea  of  tracking  him 
to  his  death.  His  mind  suggested  the  finding  of  a  place  of 
security  for  himself  and  never  letting  Vulmaran  hear  from  him 


i76  RHESA 

again,  but  it  seemed  both  cowardly  and  treacherous.  However, 
he  told  himself,  he  need  not  make  the  decision  until  his  master's 
whereabouts  were  discovered. 

The  day  passed  uneventfully.  He  stopped  by  the  wayside 
and  partook  of  a  coarse  lunch  provided  by  the  rab  mag.  After 
an  hour's  rest  in  the  shade  of  a  group  of  palms,  he  remounted 
his  horse  and  continued  the  journey.  He  rode  slowly,  hoping 
the  man  he  sought  would  so  gain  upon  him  as  to  reach  a  place 
of  safety.  It  was  nearly  nightfall  when  he  entered  Sippara.  He 
rode  leisurely  through  the  streets  to  the  inn.  Here  he  received 
a  hearty  meal  and  was  shown  to  a  comfortable  sleeping  place. 
A  servant  took  charge  of  his  horse. 

After  partaking  of  the  refreshment  provided,  Heber  roamed 
about  the  enclosure  inquiring  of  his  fellow  guests  if  any  had 
seen  a  tall  dark  man  clad  all  in  white.  Each  time  he  put  the 
question  he  feared  lest  some  one  of  them  would  answer  in  the 
affirmative.  He  made  a  complete  tour  of  the  inn  and  from 
each  guest  received  the  same  negative  answer.  He  was  about  to 
return  to  his  own  apartment  when  he  spied  an  old  man  sitting 
alone.  Heber  hastened  to  his  side  and  put  the  oft-repeated 
question. 

"Let  me  see,"  murmured  the  old  man.  "I  remember  meet- 
ing a  man  about  twenty  miles  north  of  here.  Yes,  he  was 
dressed  all  in  white  and  he  had  a  cloth  about  his  head  as  if  he 
had  been  injured." 

"Was  he  mounted  or  on  foot?"  asked  Heber. 

"Mounted,  but  he  knew  not  how  to  ride  the  horse,"  was  the 
reply. 

Heber  thanked  him  and  turned  away.  His  fears  were  real- 
ized. He  was  following  his  master  and  less  than  a  day's  jour- 
ney behind  him.  Either  the  prince  had  a  slow  horse  or  he  was 
in  no  hurry.  Mentally,  Heber  resolved  that  this  distance  should 
not  be  lessened,  at  least  not  until  Babylon  was  miles  behind. 
One  detail  of  the  old  man's  description  struck  him  as  strange. 
How  happened  it  the  commander  of  the  Winged  Lions,  "knew 
not  how  to  ride  the  horse"  ? 


HEBER'S  QUEST  177 

For  three  days  Heber  kept  steadily  on,  following  the  track 
of  the  fugitive,  yet  never  gaining  upon  him.  At  Duraba  Heber 
learned  that  his  quarry  had  left  the  main  road,  which  kept  on 
toward  Nineveh.  He  was  now  journeying  toward  the  north- 
east. 

"Vulmaran  was  right,"  thought  Heber.  "He  is  going  to 
join  the  Medes.  My  duty  bids  me  follow  but  that  is  all.  Once 
with  the  Medes  Vulmaran  may  storm.  We  will  both  be  beyond 
his  reach." 

This  thought  lifted  a  heavy  load  from  the  young  man's  mind 
and  when  he  continued  his  journey  the  following  morning  he 
allowed  his  horse  to  proceed  at  a  much  faster  pace,  and  soon 
reached  the  banks  of  the  Tigris.  At  this  point  the  river  was 
unfordable  and  no  means  of  crossing  existing,  Heber  turned 
his  horse's  head  upstream  and  followed  the  river  bank  until 
noon.  Shortly  after  noon  he  stopped  on  the  edge  of  a  small 
wood  for  lunch  and  rest.  He  tied  his  horse  to  a  tall  tree  while 
he  stretched  himself  at  full  length  upon  the  greensward. 

After  partaking  of  his  refreshment,  instead  of  sleeping  an 
hour  as  had  been  his  practice  up  to  this  time,  he  thought  of 
whiling  away  a  few  moments  exploring  the  woods.  He  looked 
to  the  comfort  of  his  faithful  beast  and  then  stepped  through 
the  outermost  clump  of  trees  into  the  tangle  beyond.  His 
progress  was  slow  and  laborious.  Pushing  aside  here  a  sapling, 
there  a  bush  he  pushed  onward  through  the  tangle,  slipping  in 
and  out  and  zigzagging  back  and  forth.  A  half  hour's  exertion 
brought  him  to  the  edge  of  an  open  glade  fully  thirty  feet 
across.  To  his  astonishment  he  found  a  horse  quietly  browsing 
within.  He  at  once  cast  his  eyes  about  the  glade  to  discover 
the  animal's  rider.  His  search  was  short.  Scarcely  ten  feet 
from  the  horse  lay  his  master,  asleep.  The  sleeper  was  the 
fugitive  Heber  had  been  following  all  these  days. 

Heber  stood  still  in  the  edge  of  the  wood,  where  he  would 
be  partially  hidden  should  the  sleeper  suddenly  awake,  and 
gazed  intently  upon  the  features  of  the  man  before  him.  It 
surely  was  the  one  whose  description  had  been  furnished  him. 


178  RHESA 

All  the  points  were  there  save  the  bandage  which  had  been 
removed  revealing  a  partially  healed  cut.  Notwithstanding  the 
sleeper  so  nearly  agreed  with  the  description,  he  was  not  Shesh- 
bazzar  or  as  Heber  knew  him,  Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the 
Guard.  Yet  the  features  seemed  familiar.  He  surely  had  seen 
that  face  before  but  for  a  moment  he  could  not  identify  the 
unconscious  form.  Suddenly  it  flashed  into  his  mind.  The 
supposed  man  was  Tirmar,  daughter  of  Josedek,  and  the  slayer 
of  Nergalshazzar. 

Heber  hesitated,  thinking  of  his  future  action.  His  mission 
was  now  accomplished.  Some  one  had  blundered,  perhaps  pur- 
posely, in  mistaking  the  fleeing  conspirator  for  the  pretender  of 
Babylon.  Heber  felt  that  he  must  decide  upon  his  course  of 
action  immediately.  Possibly  his  duty  demanded  his  return  to 
Babylon,  but  Vulmaran  had  failed  to  give  any  directions  as  to 
his  actions  in  case  his  quest  was  unsuccessful.  Had  he  found 
the  man  he  was  seeking,  his  orders  were  to  report  the  fugitive's 
whereabouts  to  the  rab  mag.  Heber  saw  how  useless  it  would 
be  to  continue  his  search  for  Sheshbazzar  further.  On  the  other 
hand  he  saw  no  reason  for  returning  to  Babylon.  Moreover,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  his  return  might  embarrass  Vulmaran. 

He  therefore  decided  that  he  would  not  return  to  Babylon, 
but  where  should  he  go?  Where  upon  the  earth's  surface  was 
there  a  refuge  for  a  Jew?  For  a  moment  he  considered  jour- 
neying to  Jerusalem  but  a  remembrance  of  the  barren,  ruinous 
condition  of  his  native  land  banished  the  idea.  He  next  thought 
of  the  Medes.  He  remembered  Rastagus  who  had  been  the 
guest  of  the  Winged  Lions  upon  the  desert.  Slowly  the  resolu- 
tion to  hunt  up  this  man  formed  itself  in  his  mind. 

Suddenly  the  sleeping  Tirmar  awoke.  Unconsciously  while 
absorbed  in  his  thoughts  Heber  had  stepped  out  into  the  open. 
The  movement  was  trifling  but  it  was  sufficient  to  place  him  in 
a  position  where  he  could  be  seen  by  the  Jewess.  Hardly  were 
her  eyes  opened  before  she  both  saw  and  recognized  him.  She 
instantly  sprang  to  her  feet  and  advanced  joyously  to  meet  him. 
There  was  no  time  to  retreat  had  he  intended  doing  so. 


HEBER'S  QUEST  179 

"Oh,  my  Heber,"  she  exclaimed,  "hast  thou  come  all  this 
distance  to  seek  me?" 

"Nay,  Tirmar,"  he  replied.  "I  have  been  following  thee  by 
mistake,  thy  description  having  been  furnished  me  for  an- 
other's." 

The  eager  expression  on  the  woman's  face  died  out.  It  was 
a  bitter  disappointment.  Amazon  though  she  was,  she  was  yet 
a  woman  and  loved  Heber  with  a  woman's  love,  made  yet  more 
intense  by  the  fierce  passionateness  of  her  nature.  It  was  deny- 
ing her,  this  cold,  matter-of-fact  speech.  Heber  had  not  in- 
tended to  hurt  her  but  he  showed  her  no  tenderness.  A  few 
days  back  he  had  told  himself  he  had  conquered  all  love  for  this 
woman,  that  she  could  no  longer  dominate  him.  Now  he  was 
again  looking  into  those  eyes.  Even  through  her  disguise, 
dressed  as  she  was  in  man's  attire,  he  could  see  the  outlines  of 
her  figure,  the  most  wonderful  in  Babylon.  Had  Tirmar  been 
a  wanton  riches  and  splendor  might  have  been  hers.  Such 
beauty  as  she  possessed  could  not  well  escape  the  eyes  of  even 
high-born  votaries  of  pleasure,  but  her  strong  will  had  been  her 
protection. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  longer  upon  the  scene.  Heber  was 
a  man  and  as  a  man  he  fell  an  easy  prey  to  a  woman's  beauty. 
Again  he  was  in  her  power  but  as  he  looked  upon  her  he  was 
glad  this  was  so.  The  Tirmar  before  him  was  not  the  Tirmar 
who  had  urged  him  to  rebellion.  She  was  changed.  At  this 
moment  her  only  ambition  was  to  become  his  wife.  They  seated 
themselves  side  by  side  upon  the  grass  and  for  an  hour  talked 
trivialities,  as  lovers  have  since  Adam  courted  Eve  in  Paradise. 

The  slanting  rays  of  the  sun  told  them  it  was  long  past  noon 
and  therefore  time  for  them  to  continue  their  journey  if  they 
wished  to  reach  an  abiding  place  before  nightfall.  Tirmar  led 
her  horse  out  through  a  narrow  lane  and  Heber  followed.  Once 
in  the  open  they  passed  around  the  woods  to  the  spot  where 
Heber  had  tied  his  horse.  They  mounted  and  rode  away,  fol- 
lowing the  river  bank  toward  the  north  until  they  found  a 
fordable  place  in  the  stream.  The  crossing  was  a  difficult  one 


i8o  RHESA 

but  at  length  they  reached  the  opposite  bank,  tired  and  wet. 
That  night  they  encamped  under  the  stars  and  continued  their 
journey  in  the  morning. 

Thus  they  rode  on  and  on  for  five  days.  Once  with  Tirmar 
Heber  gave  up  all  discussion  of  his  destination.  She  was  bound 
for  the  camp  of  the  Medes  and  Persians  and  where  she  went  he 
would  go.  One  night  in  a  lonely  farmer's  hut,  Tirmar  had 
urged  their  marriage,  so  taking  her  hand  in  his,  Heber  repeated 
a  simple  vow.  She  followed  and  thus  they  became  husband  and 
wife.  Simple  and  impromptu  as  was  the  ceremony  both  con- 
sidered it  binding  and  it  was  well.  The  vows  thus  made  were 
faithfully  kept. 

Late  in  the  forenoon  of  the  sixth  day  after  they  had  crossed 
the  Tigris,  they  reached  the  outskirts  of  a  vast  military  camp. 
It  was  located  upon  a  far-stretching,  rolling  plain  near  the  banks 
of  the  river  Gyndes.  Long  rows  of  tents  and  bowers  stretched 
away  to  a  great  distance,  each  row  equally  distant  from  its 
neighbors,  with  long  straight  avenues  between.  Down  one  of 
these  avenues  the  travelers  took  their  way,  intending  to  inquire 
for  the  tent  of  Rastagus,  of  whom  Heber  had  already  told  his 
wife.  They  were  soon  halted  by  a  sentry  who  demanded  their 
names,  their  destination  and  their  business. 

Briefly  Heber  stated  that  they  were  Jews  from  Babylon 
searching  for  one  Rastagus,  a  high  official  of  King  Cyrus.  The 
sentry  ordered  them  to  remain  in  their  present  position  while 
he  called  an  officer  to  hear  their  tale.  He  returned  shortly 
accompanied  by  a  young  man  whom  Heber  judged  to  be  an 
officer  of  considerable  rank.  Again  Heber  went  through  his 
brief  narrative.  The  officer  listened  attentively  and  as  Heber 
progressed,  a  puzzled  look  came  into  his  face. 

"This  man  must  have  been  of  some  rank  but  I  fear  thou  art 
mistaken  in  his  name.  There  is  no  officer  in  this  army  of  that 
name  as  far  as  I  am  aware,"  said  the  officer. 

Heber,  bewildered  and  disappointed,  turned  to  Tirmar.  The 
officer  scrutinized  them  keenly. 

"I  think  thou  hadst  best  state  thine  errand  to  the  king,"  he 


HEBER'S  QUEST  181 

said  a  moment  later.  "Mayhap  he  will  know  what  officer  was 
near  Babylon  at  that  time.  The  king  has  but  recently  returned 
from  a  journey  but  he  will  undoubtedly  see  thee." 

The  officer  led  the  way  through  the  camp,  followed  closely 
by  the  two  Jews.  The  distance  they  traversed  was  considerable. 
The  vastness  of  the  camp  was  a  wonder  to  Heber.  Accus- 
tomed though  he  was  to  martial  affairs  he  had  never  yet  seen 
such  a  body  of  soldiery  gathered  together.  Their  numbers  were 
beyond  calculation.  Row  upon  row  of  tents  and  huts  stretched 
away  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  Well-armed  sentries  were  sta- 
tioned at  regular  intervals  through  the  camp.  No  disorder  was 
manifest.  Everything  was  conducted  in  a  manner  surprising  to 
behold. 

At  length  they  reached  a  large  open  space  in  the  center  of 
the  camp.  Here  upon  a  slight  natural  elevation  was  pitched 
the  great  pavilion  of  King  Cyrus.  Grouped  about  it  were 
many  smaller  tents  and  two  well  built  wooden  structures,  one 
evidently  the  culinary  department  of  the  king's  household  and 
the  other  the  headquarters  of  the  army  from  whence  issued  the 
orders  that  kept  the  whole  vast  mechanism  under  control. 

Their  conductor  left  them  in  a  small  tent  close  beside  the 
central  pavilion  and  bade  them  there  await  his  return.  He 
called  up  a  sentry  and  bade  him  stand  at  the  entrance.  Heber 
judged  from  this  act  that  the  young  officer  was  suspicious  of 
them.  Their  wait  was  short,  the  officer  returning  soon  with 
instructions  for  them  to  enter  the  King's  tent.  He  opened  the 
flap  to  the  pavilion  and  motioned  for  them  to  precede  him. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  tent,  seated  in  a  heavy  but  simple 
oaken  chair,  was  Cyrus  the  Great,  king  of  Anshan,  Media  and 
Persia.  He  was  plainly  attired  in  a  military  costume.  Save 
for  his  heavy  golden  chain  he  could  easily  have  been  taken  for 
any  of  his  generals.  The  two  Jews  approached  the  famous  con- 
queror with  great  deference.  When  near  him  they  dropped 
upon  their  knees. 

"Arise,"  commanded  the  king,  "I  desire  to  speak  with  thee 
plainly." 


1 82  RHESA 

"Thou,  Gobryas,  stand  at  the  entrance  and  prevent  any  in- 
terruption of  the  present  interview."  Thus  commanded  their 
conductor  returned  to  the  opposite  end  of  the  tent  where  he 
was  out  of  hearing. 

"This  Rastagus  whom  thou  seekest  is  not  at  present  in  our 
camp.  Therefore  I  will  hear  what  thou  hast  to  say,"  said 
Cyrus. 

"We  are  two  Jews  driven  from  Babylon  who  seek  shelter 
from  thee,"  began  Heber. 

The  king  demanded  the  causes  of  their  leaving  Babylon.  As 
briefly  as  possible  Heber  narrated  the  incidents  with  which  we 
are  familiar.  He  began  with  the  Jews'  rebellion  and  ended 
with  his  liberation  from  prison. 

"So  the  fools  would  not  wait  until  spring  as  I  ordered  them," 
commented  Cyrus,  referring  to  the  rebellion  of  the  Jews. 

"It  was  thought  best  to  strike  before  Belshazzar  was 
crowned,"  answered  Heber. 

"A  fine  time,"  said  the  king  sarcastically.  "With  a  city  full 
of  soldiers,  they  should  have  known  better.  I  will  no  more 
depend  upon  their  help." 

Heber  said  nothing,  waiting  for  the  king  to  continue  the  con- 
versation. The  monarch  sat  silent  and  thoughtful  for  some 
moments.  At  length  he  raised  his  head  and  asked:  "Where 
is  this  Sheshbazzar  of  whom  thou  spake?" 

"I  know  not,"  replied  Heber.  "He  escaped  from  prison  and 
fled  the  city.  My  wife,  Tirmar,  left  at  about  the  same  time 
and  she  was  mistaken  for  him,  dressed  as  she  is  in  man's  attire. 
Her  description  was  given  me  and  she  it  was  whom  I  followed." 

The  king  became  thoughtful  again.  Heber  and  Tirmar  stood 
quietly  awaiting  his  next  remark. 

"We  will  find  a  place  for  thee  here,"  he  said  presently.  "Thy 
wife  shall  serve  our  queen  and  thou,  Heber,  shalt  be  attached 
to  our  own  person.  Thy  knowledge  of  Babylon  may  be  of 
service  to  us  later.  I  would  I  knew  the  whereabouts  of  this 
Sheshbazzar.  I  might  place  him  upon  his  father's  throne." 
This  last  was  said  in  an  undertone  as  if  to  himself. 


THE  ARAB  MERCHANT  183 

Gobryas  was  called  and  given  instructions  regarding  the  two 
Jews.  Heber  was  at  once  installed  as  one  of  the  king's  personal 
attendants  and  Tirmar  was  introduced  to  Queen  Cassandane. 
The  royal  dame  received  her  graciously.  Suitable  clothing  was 
furnished  her  and  she  entered  upon  her  duties  at  once.  In  the 
days  following  she  became  the  favorite  and  confidant  of  her 
royal  mistress. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  ARAB  MERCHANT 

Summer  passed  into  autumn ;  autumn  gave  place  to  the  short, 
mild  winter;  winter  in  turn  gave  place  to  spring,  and  still  the 
earth  seemed  to  have  swallowed  up  Sheshbazzar.  Heber  as 
we  know  had  never  returned.  Therefore  the  king's  prison  was 
minus  two  important  prisoners.  Not  one  word,  not  the  slight- 
est hint  or  clue  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  king  or  rab  mag 
concerning  the  man  they  sought.  Nabonidos  took  great  pleas* 
ure  in  reminding  his  chief  adviser  of  the  fate  in  store  for  him 
should  the  escaped  prisoner  not  be  found.  Consequently  Vul- 
maran  was  using  every  imaginable  method  of  seeking  news  to 
find  out  the  prince's  whereabouts.  A  vast  corps  of  spies  was 
scouring  the  country,  (at  great  expense  to  the  rab  mag),  but 
not  the  least  scrap  of  intelligence  had  they  brought  in.  The 
king  had  never  inquired  about  Heber.  No  doubt  the  monarch 
believed  him  duly  executed. 

Affairs  during  the  past  eleven  months  had  run  in  compara- 
tively smooth  channels.  There  had  been  some  uneasiness  among 
the  subject  tribes  to  the  south,  but  otherwise  no  political  troubles 
assailed  Nabonidos.  The  only  discord  was  between  king  and 
priesthood,  a  trouble  dating  from  Belshazzar's  coronation  day. 
The  entire  body  of  the  priesthood  down  to  the  youngest  acolyte 
supported  Neboakhu,  and  so  powerful  was  the  class  that  Na- 
bonidos dare  not  vent  his  anger  upon  the  chief  priest.  Belshaz- 


184  RHESA 

zar  continued  as  an  associate  king,  but  reigned  without  the  bless- 
ing of  the  gods. 

The  king's  Hebrew  subjects  had  given  him  no  further  trouble. 
The  rebellion  was  never  countenanced  by  their  real  leaders,  nor 
did  the  better  class  of  Jews  engage  in  it.  Josedek,  his  daughter, 
and  Heber  were  the  only  participants  of  noble  blood.  The  king 
evidently  considered  the  Jews  sufficiently  punished  and  had  not 
pursued  them  further.  Many  of  those  taken  prisoners  were  sub- 
sequently released,  and  undoubtedly  this  clemency  was  good 
policy.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  idea  of  winning  their  own  liberty 
had  entirely  died  out  and,  aside  from  instructing  his  spies  to  keep 
close  watch  upon  their  actions,  the  king  paid  no  more  attention 
to  them. 

The  general  life  in  Babylon  during  this  quiet  period  is  unim- 
portant. How  fared  the  friends  of  Sheshbazzar  in  their  en- 
deavor to  pave  the  way  for  his  ascent  to  the  throne  ?  They  had 
worked  quietly  but  with  fair  success.  Some  thirty  persons  were 
directly  connected  with  the  plot  while  many  more  stood  ready 
to  take  the  prince's  side  when  he  should  appear.  Hints  of  the 
existence  of  a  true  king,  who  would  one  day  lead  them,  had  been 
freely  circulated  among  the  people  and  the  soldiers.  All  this 
had  been  accomplished  quietly  without  an  inkling  reaching  the 
ears  of  either  king  or  rab  mag.  Ulbar  took  good  care  that  no 
subordinate  of  his  should  report  anything  he  might  learn  con- 
cerning Sheshbazzar  or  his  friends. 

The  priesthood  could  be  counted  upon  to  a  man.  Belibus  had 
taken  many  of  his  troop  into  his  confidence  and  he  gave  assur- 
ance that  practically  his  entire  command  would  support  its  for- 
mer captain.  Orma  had  freely  talked  of  the  matter  with  her 
father  and  Daniel  but  they  both  advised  against  rebellion. 
•Nehum  had  reached  the  age  when  a  man  desires  peace  and 
Daniel  could  see  the  impending  fate  hanging  over  the  city. 

"Too  late,  too  late,"  he  would  say  whenever  Orma  men- 
tioned the  subject.  "The  power  of  the  Almighty  is  about  to  be 
made  manifest." 

If  Orma  heeded  the  words  of  the  aged  prophet,  her  co-wTorkers 


THE  ARAB  MERCHANT  185 

did  not.  The  visions  of  an  aged  Jew  were  meaningless  to  such 
fiery  Babylonians  as  Belibus  and  the  other  men  he  had  drawn 
into  the  circle.  Only  Nitocris  heeded  them  and  they  gave  her 
pain.  She  remembered  the  wonderful  Daniel  of  old,  the  inter- 
preter of  the  great  king's  dreams  and  she  remembered  how  Dan- 
iel's interpretations  came  true.  Even  now  she  shuddered  at  the 
remembrance  of  a  small  enclosed  garden  which  no  man  was 
allowed  to  enter.  She  remembered  the  greatest  of  Babylonian 
monarchs  crawling  about  that  garden  upon  all  fours  and  eating 
grass  as  a  beast  of  the  field. 

One  wish  was  ever  present  with  those  engaged  in  the  con- 
spiracy to  place  Sheshbazzar  upon  the  throne  of  his  father ;  the 
wish  that  he  was  where  they  could  communicate  with  him. 
Only  one  word  had  they  received  from  him.  Six  months  after 
his  departure  an  Arab  merchant  sought  out  Orma  and  presented 
her  with  a  silken  shawl,  "sent  by  the  Arab  Kadasman  who  had 
once  known  her."  That  was  all  and  yet  it  was  a  clue.  He  was 
with  the  Arabs  and  his  name  was  Kadasman. 

With  the  coming  of  spring,  the  caravans  began  to  arrive  in 
the  city  to  dispose  of  their  wares.  The  friends  of  the  absent 
prince  watched  them  closely  and  cautiously  questioned  each  mer- 
chant. One  of  his  friends  visited  the  market  place  each  day,  in 
the  hope  of  securing  some  tidings  of  the  prince.  Unless  some- 
thing was  soon  learned,  they  must  send  for  him.  This  daily  task 
usually  fell  to  Orma.  The  rank  of  the  others  might  make  such 
duty  dangerous  for  them.  One  day,  late  in  the  month  corre- 
sponding to  our  May,  when  Orma  reached  the  market  place  she 
found  a  caravan  in  possession,  their  horses  and  camels  in  the 
background  and  their  wares  spread  out  upon  rugs  laid  on  the 

pavement. 

She  cautiously  approached  the  group,  ostensibly  to  purchase. 
She  moved  from  one  merchant  to  another,  eagerly  watching  for 
an  opportunity  to  question  them.  The  last  merchant  in  the  line, 
an  old  man,  was  alone.  As  Orma  leaned  over  to  inspect  his 
goods,  she  cautiously  asked  him  if,  in  his  travels  about  the  desert, 
he  had  met  with  a  young  Arab  named  Kadasman. 


1 86  RHESA 

"I  have,"  he  replied,"  "he  is  with  us  this  trip.  Wait  a 
moment  and  I  will  call  him." 

He  turned  to  enter  a  tent  that  stood  some  ten  feet  back  from 
the  row  of  merchants.  Orma  stood  speechless.  The  hot  blood 
came  and  went  in  her  face.  Could  it  be  possible?  Ah  no. 
There  must  be  a  genuine  Arab  of  that  name.  What  could  she 
say  to  him?  How  could  she  explain  her  asking  for  him?  Be- 
fore she  had  time  to  frame  a  sentence  the  old  merchant  returned. 
Behind  him  strode  a  tall  young  Arab.  At  sight  of  the  waiting 
girl  he  sprang  forward,  and  bending  low  he  whispered,  "Orma, 
my  own." 

It  was  he!  She  knew  him  instantly  even  through  his  dis- 
guise. It  was  the  man  she  loved  above  all  other  men,  the  man 
for  whom  she  would  have  given  up  all  that  life  held  dear. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "I  have  finer  silks  in  the  tent." 

She  accompanied  him  as  he  entered  the  tent.  There  was  no 
furniture  within.  Standing  in  the  center  of  the  confined  space, 
they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  a  moment.  Then  he  folded 
her  to  his  breast  and  kissed  her  upon  both  blooming  cheeks. 
She  rebuked  him  not. 

"My  own,"  he  whispered,  "how  has  it  gone  with  thee?" 

"It  has  been  well,"  she  answered,  "only  Heber.  Not  one 
word  have  we  ever  had  from  him.  I  fear  he  has  paid  the  penalty 
of  his  deeds.  We  mourn  him  as  one  dead." 

"Poor  Heber,"  said  the  prince,  sadly.  He  made  no  attempt 
to  dispute  her  belief.  He  too  felt  no  doubt  concerning  Heber's 
fate.  They  were  silent  for  some  moments,  thinking  of  the  young 
man  dear  to  both.  Orma  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Is  it  not  dangerous  for  thee  to  return  ?"  she  asked. 

"I  have  no  fear  of  being  recognized.  Thou  wouldst  not  have 
known  me  had  I  not  made  myself  known." 

"Ah  sir,  thou  art  mistaken.  I  knew  thee  the  moment  I  saw 
thee,"  she  said. 

"Then  I  hope  the  eyes  of  mine  enemies  are  not  as  sharp  as 
thine,"  he  said  smiling. 


THE  ARAB  MERCHANT  187 

"I  fear  for  thee,"  she  said  sadly.  "The  eyes  of  hate  are 
fully  as  sharp  as  those  of  love." 

"I  will  be  careful,"  he  replied,  "for  the  sake  of  those  who 
love  me  and  for  the  cause  I  represent." 

"Are  any  expecting  me?"  he  asked  a  moment  later. 

"Many  are  hoping  for  thy  return,"  she  answered. 

"I  fear  it  is  too  late.  I  fear  my  country  is  doomed.  Only 
yesterday  a  traveler  from  the  north  informed  me  that  Cyrus 
had  crossed  the  Tigris  with  an  army  the  largest  ever  seen.  I 
fear  he  will  carry  all  before  him;  that  all  will  be  lost  and  the 
great  empire  established  by  my  grandfather  will  crumble  into 
dust.  Nabonidos  underestimates  the  strength  of  the  enemy  and 
trusts  his  walls  and  ditches  to  defend  him." 

Strangely,  Orma  did  not  take  this  information  as  sadly  as  she 
ought.  She,  a  Jew,  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  view  the 
world  with  the  eyes  of  the  man  beside  her.  In  her  dreams  for 
the  future  the  palace  of  Babylon  had  no  part.  She  only  dreamed 
of  a  cozy  little  cottage  under  Mount  Moriah.  Sheshbazzar 
was  silent,  thinking. 

"I  have  a  plan,"  he  exclaimed  presently. 

Orma  listened. 

"I  will  go  to  the  king  and  inform  him  of  the  approach  of 
Cyrus.  I  doubt  if  word  has  yet  reached  him.  Perhaps  it  will 
stir  him  to  action." 

"Oh,  sir!"  exclaimed  Orma.  "Why  expose  thyself  to  such 
danger?" 

"Danger!"  he  exclaimed.  "There  is  no  danger.  The  king 
will  not  know  me  in  this  guise.  Mayhap  I  will  have  opportunity 
to  see  the  queen." 

Orma  made  no  further  objection  and  in  a  few  moments  they 
separated. 

"I  am  coming  to  see  thy  father  soon,  my  loved  one,"  he  said 
as  they  stood  in  the  tent  door. 

She  shook  her  head  sadly,  divining  his  meaning.  She  stood 
silent  a  moment,  her  eyes  downcast.  When  she  again  raised  her 
head,  her  eyes  were  swimming  in  tears. 


188  RHESA 

"Do  be  careful  of  thyself  for  my  sake,"  she  murmured  and 
was  gone. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  an  Arab  merchant 
presented  himself  at  the  palace  entrance  and  asked  for  admis- 
sion to  the  king's  presence.  He  urged  important  business  as  his 
reason.  After  a  long  wait  in  the  large  entrance  hall  of  the 
palace  a  minor  officer  of  the  royal  household  came  and  ques- 
tioned him.  The  Arab  was  wary  in  his  replies,  but  succeeded  in 
convincing  the  man  that  he  had  important  information  to  con- 
vey. 

"Wait  here  until  I  can  apprise  the  king  of  thine  errand,"  said 
the  officer  grandly,  silently  motioning  the  Arab  to  a  seat. 

Kadasman  seated  himself  as  ordered.  During  the  wait  his 
mind  dwelt  upon  his  present  position.  He  realized  the  temer- 
ity of  it.  Discovery  meant  certain  death.  Not  again  could  that 
terrible  chamber  be  foiled  of  its  purpose.  Once  again  in  the 
power  of  Nabonidos  or  his  crafty  rab  mag  there  would  be  no 
hope.  No  power  on  earth  could  save  him.  The  fear  of  death 
did  not  impress  itself  upon  him,  for  he  was  not  thinking  of 
death  as  it  applied  to  himself  individually,  but  rather  as  the 
ending  of  his  line,  the  final  triumph  of  the  usurper.  His  per- 
sonal feelings  were  merged  in  the  far  nobler  thoughts  of  his 
house,  his  dynasty.  Since  knowing  of  his  birth  and  lineage  his 
only  thought  had  been  to  reestablish  the  royal  line  of  Nabopo- 
lassar  and  Nebuchadnezzar. 

The  officer  soon  returned  with  orders  for  the  Arab  to  follow 
him  at  once.  Through  the  familiar  halls  and  corridors  his  feet 
had  so  often  trod  before,  the  fugitive  followed  his  important  con- 
ductor. Did  the  latter  but  know  it,  the  humble  Arab  behind 
him  was  no  stranger  in  this  building;  in  days  of  yore  he  re- 
quired no  attendant  to  usher  him  into  the  king's  presence. 

With  mingled  feelings  of  curiosity  and  fear  the  Arab  entered 
the  apartment  so  familiar  to  him.  The  great  library  was  more 
crowded  than  he  had  been  used  to  seeing  it.  A  hasty  glance 
about  the  room  and  at  its  occupants  revealed  a  change  in  affairs. 
The  grand  old  nobles  that  he  had  been  taught  to  revere,  the  men 


THE  ARAB  MERCHANT  189 

who  had  witnessed  Babylon's  glories,  were  not  present.  Either 
they  had  become  tired  of  the  present  regime  and  had  withdrawn 
from  the  councils  of  the  king,  or  else  the  king  had  leaned  toward 
lesser  minds  and  driven  the  old  men  away.  Kadasman  had 
little  time  for  observation  or  speculation  for  he  was  conducted 
straight  to  the  throne,  the  new  councillors  making  room  for 
him.  The  Arab  looked  straight  into  the  faces  of  the  two  mon- 
archs  as  they  sat  upon  their  twin  thrones,  but  he  saw  no  signs 
of  recognition  in  their  stolid  countenances.  He  bowed  stiffly 
and  then  stood  waiting  for  the  monarchs  to  open  the  conversa- 
tion. Nabonidos  motioned  to  his  son  to  conduct  the  interview. 

"Thou  bringest  information  of  importance?"  asked  the  youth. 

"Yea,  O  King,  I  bring  tidings  of  vital  importance  to  thy 
nation."  He  spoke  in  a  low  tone,  intending  his  words  for  royal 
ears  alone. 

"We  await  thy  further  speech,"  commanded  Belshazzar. 

"Know  then,  O  mighty  King,  the  armies  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians  have  crossed  the  Tigris  into  thy  territory  and  are 
marching  southward." 

His  words  brought  consternation  to  Nabonidos.  A  trembling 
as  of  fear  seized  him.  He  looked  at  the  Arab  bewilderedly. 
The  suddenness  of  the  announcement  unnerved  him;  the  unex- 
pected proximity  of  the  enemy  appalled  him.  He  sat  silent  for 
some  moments  but  at  length,  the  first  surprise  passing  away, 
he  became  more  calm.  He  called  up  Vulmaran  and  several 
nobles.  Kadasman  at  once  recognized  the  latter  as  officers  inl 
the  army,  men  who  only  a  year  ago  had  been  in  command  of 
companies  and  regiments.  Now  they  were  generals.  To  his 
joy  he  noted  Belibus  among  those  called.  The  Arab  was  di- 
rected to  repeat  his  information  that  these  might  hear. 

A  discussion  followed.  Not  a  plan  had  been  formulated  to 
resist  the  invaders.  Save  for  the  canals  and  the  mammoth  walls 
of  the  city,  no  defense  existed ;  yet  for  fourteen  years  this  attack 
had  been  regarded  as  among  things  inevitable.  Now  that  the 
enemy  was  near  at  hand  an  army  must  be  raised  to  resist  him. 
All  was  confusion.  The  conversation  revealed  the  lack  of  a 


i9o  RHESA 

head.  All  these  upstart  generals  were  upon  an  equal  footing. 
There  was  no  commander-in-chief.  Indeed  Vulmaran  men- 
tioned this  at  once  and  suggested  that  some  general  be  appointed 
to  the  supreme  command. 

"I  will  take  command  in  person,"  declared  Nabonidos. 

"But  the  government,"  quickly  interposed  Vulmaran,  realiz- 
ing full  well  the  value  of  Nabonidos  as  a  general. 

"Belshazzar  is  king.  He  shall  govern  until  my  return,"  an- 
swered the  king. 

At  length  after  many  words  had  been  spoken  but  little  of 
value  said,  the  various  generals  received  some  sort  of  orders. 
One  by  one  they  left  the  room  to  undertake  the  fulfillment  of 
the  orders.  These  orders  were  to  assemble  all  available  forces 
at  the  city  of  Sippara.  Already  forty  thousand  men  were  there 
or  in  the  outposts  beyond  Accad. 

Meanwhile  the  informer  stood  with  folded  arms,  motionless, 
his  tall  form  erect,  an  interested  but  impassive  listener.  After 
the  last  of  the  generals  had  departed  Nabonidos  remarked  to  his 
son :  "If  only  Nabomuran  had  not  learned  of  his  birth  we  could 
feel  more  secure.  I  would  match  his  generalship  against  that 
of  Cyrus  any  day." 

Suddenly  he  noticed  the  Arab. 

"Ha,  fellow,"  he  cried,  "why  lingerest  thou  here?    Begone." 

The  Arab  bowed  silently  and  turned  to  depart,  but  at  this 
instant  Vulmaran  interposed. 

"Nay,  O  King,  send  him  not  thus  away.  He  brought  us  news 
of  great  value  and  should  be  amply  rewarded." 

Nabonidos  called  the  Arab  back. 

"What  reward  can  we  bestow  upon  thee  for  thy  services  ?"  he 
asked. 

The  Arab  hesitated. 

"I  have  a  request  to  make  but  I  fear  thou  wilt  not  grant  it," 
he  said. 

"Speak,  man,  and  it  shall  be  thine  if  within  our  power  to 
bestow,"  said  the  king. 

"I  request  the  privilege  of  serving  under  thee  against  thy  foes. 


VULMARAN'S  VISIT  191 

At  home,  in  the  desert,  I  have  been  called  a  man  of  valor.  May- 
hap I  can  serve  thee  well." 

"A  noble  request,  Sir  Arab,"  said  the  king.  "Thy  people 
are  not  wont  to  serve  under  the  Babylonians.  I  grant  most 
willingly  that  which  thou  askest.  Thou  shalt  serve  with  me  and 
be  attached  to  my  staff.  A  place  of  abode  shall  be  found  for 
thee  in  the  palace  until  we  are  ready  to  advance  against  our 
foes." 

The  officer  who  had  conducted  Kadasman  hither  was  now 
called  and  instructed  to  assign  an  apartment  in  the  palace  to 
the  Arab.  He  bowed  and  left  the  room,  followed  by  the  latest 
addition  to  the  Babylonian  army. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
VULMARAN'S  VISIT 

Vulmaran,  rab  mag  of  Babylon,  was  not  a  happy  man  these 
days.  His  fortune  was  rapidly  dwindling  due  to  the  enormous 
inroads  made  in  it  by  his  countless  hosts  of  secret  agents  and 
bribed  officials.  Already  his  beautiful  and  princely  residence 
was  heavily  encumbered  and  the  holder  of  the  mortgage  was  a 
man  he  feared.  By  far  his  greatest  anxiety,  however,  was  con- 
cerning Sheshbazzar.  Barely  a  month  remained  in  which  to 
find  the  fugitive  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  hope  of  finding  him. 
This  man,  at  whose  instance  more  than  one  unfortunate  had 
tasted  the  horrors  of  the  drowning  chamber,  had  now  the  pros- 
pect of  experiencing  them  himself. 

Upon  the  evening  of  the  day  celebrated  in  these  pages  by  the 
return  of  Babylon's  prince,  Vulmaran  was  pacing  up  and  down 
a  magnificent  apartment  of  his  lordly  mansion.  His  hands  were 
clasped  behind  his  back,  his  head  was  bowed,  his  whole  atti- 
tude was  one  of  the  deepest  dejection.  His  brow  was  over- 
cast and  his  face  pale.  His  lips  moved  as  though  he  was  talking 
to  himself. 


192  RHESA 

While  still  in  this  mood  the  draperies  that  screened  the  door- 
way were  pushed  aside  and  Iddin,  the  gay  son  of  the  rab  mag, 
entered.  An  indefinable  change  had  taken  place  in  the  young 
man.  His  face  wore  a  more  noble  expression,  his  whole  bear- 
ing was  changed.  Some  revolution  had  taken  place  in  the 
young  man's  character. 

His  father  did  not  at  first  notice  his  son's  entrance,  so  ab- 
sorbed was  he  in  his  own  gloomy  thoughts. 

"Why  father,"  exclaimed  the  youth,  "what  is  the  cause  of 
thine  anxiety?" 

"Ah,  Iddin,"  replied  Vulmaran  sadly,  "never  aspire  to  public 
life.  It  has  a  golden  glitter  but  beneath  all  is  disappointment 
and  misery.  Look  at  me.  Did  not  I  more  than  anyone  else 
win  the  throne  for  Nabonidos?  Was  not  mine  the  hand  that 
slew  the  crazy  boy  king?  What  have  I  received  for  my  ser- 
vices? An  honorary  position  carrying  no  income,  save  such 
public  funds  as  I  can  turn  my  way.  Now  the  king  I  made 
would  cause  my  death  simply  because  this  Sheshbazzar  escaped. 
Would  to  Bel  I  had  taken  his  side  rather  than  that  of  Na- 
bonidos." 

"Ah  father,  thou  knowest  I  advised  thee  to  support  the  prince. 
From  the  first,  before  I  knew  Nabomuran  was  the  Lost  Prince, 
I  intended  to  cast  my  lot  with  him.  Thou  knowest  well  the 
weakness  and  inability  of  Nabonidos.  Why  wilt  thou  serve  him 
longer?" 

"My  son,  what  can  I  do?  How  can  I  serve  a  man  that  can- 
not be  found?" 

"Mayhap  if  thou  assured  his  friends  of  thy  interest  in  his 
cause  and  promised  thy  support,  they  would  send  for  him.  No 
doubt  those  in  his  councils  know  where  he  is." 

"What  thou  suggestest  is  impossible,  Iddin.  The  only  way 
for  me  to  have  mine  own  life  is  to  place  that  man  in  prison." 

"That  I  am  sure  cannot  be  done.  Thou  hast  scoured  the 
world  for  him  and  not  even  a  suspicion  has  resulted.  There- 
fore, unless  he  returns  and  overthrows  the  present  government 
within  a  few  weeks  thou  art  doomed." 


VULMARAN'S  VISIT  193 

"Unless ."    The  rab  mag  hesitated. 

"Unless  what?"  inquired  his  son. 

"Unless  the  Persians  end  the  empire  before  the  time  ex- 
pires." 

"That  would  be  a  calamity  for  the  whole  nation,  father.  We 
must  not  save  ourselves  at  the  expense  of  our  country." 

"Country  indeed,"  replied  the  rab  mag,  turning  angrily  upon 
his  son.  "Is  not  my  life  of  more  value  to  thee  than  any  gov- 
ernment?" 

"To  me,  yes,  but  not  to  thousands  of  my  countrymen." 

"'Tis  of  myself  alone  I  think,"  persisted  Vulmaran.  "My 
life  is  more  to  me  than  the  whole  world." 

"Ah,  father,  the  selfish  man  must  always  lose.  We  cannot 
think  of  ourselves  alone.  This  world  was  not  created  for  one 
man  but  for  the  many." 

"Nevertheless  in  this  case  the  one  man  counts  for  more  than 
the  many.  I  tell  thee,  Iddin,  before  I  die  in  yonder  chamber 
I  will  open  our  gates  to  the  Persian.  Then  Nabonidos  will 
see  who  it  is  he  would  put  to  death." 

"Then  father,  thou  art  no  parent  of  mine."  I  would  will- 
ingly give  my  life  to  save  thine  but  I  will  not  be  the  son  of  a 
traitor." 

"Iddin,"  cried  his  father,  more  sad  than  angry.  "I  little 
thought  to  hear  such  words  from  a  son  of  mine.  Tell  me  what 
wondrous  change  has  come  over  thee.  Thy  whole  life  is  differ- 
ent. Thy  expenditures  have  fallen  away  to  nothing.  What  is 
it,  Iddin,  art  thou  to  marry?" 

"The  change  thou  seest,  father,  means  simply  this.  Mine  eyes 
are  opened  to  behold  the  true  God,  the  One  Almighty  Ruler." 

"Nonsense,"  sneered  the  rab  mag,  "thou  art  crazy.  What 
meanest  thou?  Hast  thou  turned  Jew?" 

"I  believe  in  the  same  God  they  worship." 

"Then  truly  all  things  are  coming  to  an  end.  When  a  Baby- 
lonian forsakes  his  women,  his  wine  and  his  gods  truly  some- 
thing is  sure  to  happen." 

Iddin  waited  to  hear  no  more  but  turned  and  left  the  room. 


194  RHESA 

He  had  long  been  aware  of  his  father's  character  but  it  was  a 
blow  to  him  to  find  that  he  contemplated  treachery. 

After  his  son's  departure  Vulmaran  sat  down  upon  a  couch 
in  the  corner  of  the  room.  He  was  desperate.  Something  must 
be  done,  but  his  usually  active  mind  refused  to  assist  him  at  this 
time.  He  had  been  in  tight  corners  before  but  some  deep-laid 
scheme,  perhaps  a  murder,  had  saved  him.  Now  all  seemed  lost. 
As  he  had  told  Iddin  but  one  loophole  was  left  him.  Cyrus 
alone  could  save  him. 

His  thoughts  were  again  interrupted.  The  second  intruder 
was  a  Greek,  one  of  the  rab  mag's  most  trusted  spies. 

"Well,"  said  Vulmaran  rather  testily,  "what  bringeth  thee 
here  at  such  an  hour?" 

"I  have  news  of  the  utmost  importance,"  replied  the  spy. 

"Give  it  me  quickly,"  exclaimed  Vulmaran. 

"I  am  in  no  haste,"  replied  the  Greek  coolly. 

"What  meanest  thou?" 

"I  mean  this.  Thou  hast  offered  five  talents  to  the  man  who 
brings  thee  news  of  Sheshbazzar.  I  have  news.  He  is  in  the 
city  at  this  moment.  When  the  five  talents  are  in  my  possession 
I  will  reveal  his  present  name  ancf  whereabouts." 

"The  gold  shall  be  thine,"  cried  Vulmaran.  "Now  tell  me 
where  I  can  find  this  man." 

"When  I  hold  the  gold  in  my  hands  I  will  give  thee  the  in- 
formation and  not  until." 

"Perhaps,"  he  added  musingly,  "the  friends  of  the  prince  can 
offer  me  more  than  five  to  keep  still." 

"Thou  shalt  have  ten,"  cried  the  rab  mag. 

The  Greek  turned  to  depart. 

"I  will  be  here  in  the  morning.  If  thou  hast  the  ten  talents 
ready  the  information  shall  be  thine." 

After  so  speaking  he  vanished  through  the  doorway,  leaving 
Vulmaran  alone  with  his  troubles.  The  rab  mag  sank  back 
upon  the  couch,  faint  at  heart.  Ten  talents!  Where  could  he 
obtain  such  a  sum  ?  The  last  time  the  house  of  Egibi  had  made 
a  loan  to  the  king  the  rab  mag  had  demanded  a  part  in  the 


VULMARAN'S  VISIT  195 

profits.  Refused,  he  had  striven  to  rupture  the  negotiations, 
thereby  gaining  for  an  enemy  the  only  man  who  could  now  help 
him.  Egibi  was  already  a  creditor  of  the  bankrupt  officer  and 
could  at  any  moment  cause  his  ruin.  All  paths  seemed  closed 
to  him.  For  the  sum  of  ten  talents  he  could  learn  the  where- 
abouts of  Sheshbazzar,  but  where  could  he  find  ten  talents? 

There  was  one  last  resort  and  this  desperate  step  must  be 
taken.  Therefore  he  called  for  his  chariot  and  when  it  came, 
he  stepped  in.  He  mumbled  a  direction  to  his  driver  and  they 
set  out  for  the  destination  mentioned. 

It  was  past  midnight,  but  all  hours  were  the  same  to  the 
desperate  man.  After  a  drive  of  nearly  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  the  chariot  drew  up  before  the  house  of  Neboakhu. 

Vulmaran  alighted  and  hurried  to  the  entrance.  He  pounded 
vociferously  upon  the  door  with  his  fists,  making  din  sufficient 
to  wake  the  golden  god  on  the  temple's  summit  above  him.  At 
length  a  sleepy  servant  appeared  to  inquire  the  cause  of  the 
uproar. 

"I  must  see  the  chief  priest  at  once,"  said  Vulmaran. 

"My  master  dislikes  being  called  at  night,  but  if  thou  wilt 
give  me  thy  name  I  will  see  if  he  wall  come  down,"  answered 
the  servant. 

"Tell  him  his  brother  Vulmaran  wishes  to  see  him  on  urgent 
business." 

The  servant  ushered  him  into  the  reception  room  where  a  dim 
light  was  burning.  To  the  waiting  man  it  seemed  as  if  the 
servant  was  absent  an  eternity,  but  at  length  he  returned.  He 
brought  word  that  Neboakhu  would  soon  be  down.  Some  mo- 
ments later  the  old  priest  entered  the  room.  He  had  merely 
thrown  a  long  robe  over  his  night  attire. 

"To  what  cause  can  I  attribute  the  honor  of  this  visit?"  he 
asked  haughtily. 

"Remembering  we  are  sons  of  the  same  father  I  sought  thee 
out  to  ask  of  thee  a  favor.  I  am  in  a  desperate  plight  and  must 
have  ten  talents  before  morning.  Therefore  I  am  come  to  beg 
them  from  thee.  Thy  triumph  is  complete,  I  remember  the 


196  RHESA 

last  words  thou  spakest  unto  me  when  we  parted  never  more  to 
be  known  as  brothers.  If  after  thy  words  I  come  to  thee  for 
assistance  thou  canst  see  the  urgency  of  my  case."  The  rab  mag 
spoke  humbly,  almost  cravenly. 

"Thou  speakest  right.  This  is  a  moment  of  triumph  for  me. 
For  thirty  years  have  I  awaited  such  a  moment,  and  now  it  is 
come.  Now  I  shall  have  my  revenge." 

The  priest  seated  himself  opposite  his  brother,  and  looking 
him  straight  in  the  eye,  spoke  as  follows: — 

"Let  me  see,"  he  said,  "I  am  sixty  years  of  age;  thou  art  fifty- 
five.  Then  it  is  just  thirty  years  since  the  night  Camada  placed 
her  hand  in  mine  and  promised  to  become  my  wife.  Ah  Vul- 
maran,  I  was  a  happy  man.  The  foremost  beauty  in  Babylon 
had  confessed  her  love  for  me,  had  consented  to  share  the  life 
of  the  humble  priest.  The  world  contained  no  greater  joy  for 
me  than  that.  I  was  content.  Mine  ambition  was  for  the 
time  deadened.  All  I  dreamed  of  was  life  with  my  love.  For 
six  months  I  lived  in  perfect  happiness,  little  dreaming  of  the 
blow  in  store  for  me. 

"One  evening  I  drove  out  to  her  father's  residence  in  my 
gay  chariot.  I  intended  that  night  to  ask  the  old  general  for 
his  blessing  upon  our  union.  All  the  way  my  thoughts  were 
upon  my  loved  one  and  the  days  of  happiness  in  store  for  us. 
I  hardly  felt  myself  a  man  that  night.  I  was  a  god,  dwelling 
in  clouds  of  light.  All  was  radiant  about  me.  That  evening 
was  the  supreme  moment  of  my  career.  When  I  reached  the 
house,  instead  of  entering  it  I  passed  around  it  to  the  garden, 
knowing  my  love  would  be  among  the  flowers,  herself  the  fairest 
flower  of  all.  Ah,  what  a  sight  met  my  gaze  as  I  suddenly 
came  upon  her.  There  she  stood,  radiant  in  her  beauty,  but — 
clasped  in  the  arms  of  another!  I  sprang  forward,  maddened 
at  the  sight.  Murder  was  in  my  heart.  I  grasped  the  inter- 
loper by  the  shoulder  and  whirled  him  around.  Another  mo- 
ment and  my  dagger  would  have  drunk  of  his  heart's  blood, 
but  in  that  moment  I  recognized  the  man.  He  was  my  father's 
son.  I  turned  to  Camada  and  bitterly  upbraided  her,  telling 


VULMARAN'S  VISIT  197 

her  to  make  her  choice.  She  did  so  and  bitterly  did  she  regret 
her  decision.  Against  the  villain,  half  my  brother,  but  thanks 
be  to  Bel,  only  half,  I  swore  eternal  enmity.  Now  after  thirty 
years  I  see  him  come  cringing,  fawning,  begging  for  the  gold 
my  labors  have  earned  me. 

"Tonight,  Vulmaran,  I  have  my  revenge.  Thou  shalt  have 
the  gold  freely  and  without  usury.  By  so  accommodating  thee 
I  win  a  more  complete  revenge  than  I  would  by  refusing  thee." 

The  old  priest  was  right.  To  accept  so  great  a  gift  from  the 
brother  he  had  wronged  was  more  galling  to  the  proud  rab 
mag  than  would  have  been  the  most  indignant  refusal.  Ne- 
boakhu  left  the  room  but  returned  in  a  short  time.  He  handed 
Vulmaran  a  clay  tablet  saying:  "Present  this  to  Bena  Egibi  and 
receive  from  him  that  thou  desirest." 

The  rab  mag  arose.  He  was  humbled  and  crestfallen.  His 
brother  stood  calmly  before  him,  a  smile  of  contempt  upon  his 
thin  lips.  Twice  Vulmaran  tried  to  speak  but  the  words  came 
not.  At  last  he  found  the  words  he  desired. 

"Neboakhu  I  wronged  thee  it  is  true,  but  believe  me,  until 
the  night  thou  discovered  me  embracing  the  woman  who  after- 
wards became  my  wife,  I  did  not  know  she  had  promised  her- 
self to  thee.  For  this  present  favor  I  thank  thee.  It  may  be 
thy  last  opportunity.  Ruin  and  death  stare  me  in  the  face. 
Egibi  can  take  my  house  away  from  me  at  any  time  he  chooses 
and  Nabonidos  will  take  my  life  unless  the  miraculous  happens 
within  the  month." 

"Thine  intelligence  gives  me  pain,"  said  the  priest.  "With 
thy  permission  I  will  straighten  thee  out  with  Egibi.  As  re- 
gards Nabonidos  I  am  powerless  to  help  thee.  My  life  too 
would  be  in  danger  but  for  his  fear  of  the  priesthood.  Ah 
Vulmaran,  thy  ways  in  life  have  paid  thee  ill.  Poor  as  I  am, 
I  yet  am  happier  than  thou  with  all  thy  scheming." 

"Brother,  for  thy  kindness  accept  my  thanks,"  said  Vul- 
maran. 

"Nay,  not  kindness;  revenge,"  replied  the  priest. 

A  moment  later  the  rab  mag  departed.    As  he  passed  out  the 


198  RHESA 

door  he  muttered:  '  'Poor  as  I  am.'  He  is  either  a  liar  or  a 
fool  and,  as  he  is  my  father's  son,  I  think  the  former.  Had  I 
the  revenues  of  the  temple  under  my  control  I  would  make  my- 
self the  richest  man  in  Babylon.  I  believe  him  rich  and  if  this 
prince  he  so  worships  can  be  gotten  rid  of,  the  money  will  one 
day  be  mine." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

ENEMY  OR  FRIEND 

The  following  morning  Kadasman  arose  early  and  made  his 
way  to  the  large  dining-hall  at  the  rear  of  the  palace  where  all 
those  connected  with  the  kings  household  (and  they  were  legion) 
were  fed.  There  in  the  company  of  door-tenders,  messengers, 
guards,  charioteers,  eunuchs  and  other  servants  of  the  vast  es- 
tablishment, he  partook  of  his  morning  meal.  As  he  ate  he 
could  but  think  of  other  meals  eaten  in  that  building  but  under 
vastly  different  circumstances.  Still,  he  felt  no  unhappiness 
over  the  change.  Humble  as  was  his  present  station  he  was 
content  with  it  for  the  time  being.  His  sun  would  one  day 
rise  and  then  he  could  look  back  with  amusement  upon  the  days 
of  his  seclusion. 

His  position  in  the  royal  household  was  as  yet  undefined.  He 
had  no  duties  and  no  superior  to  tell  him  what  he  should  do 
and  whither  he  should  go.  Therefore  his  first  act  after  finish- 
ing breakfast  was  to  seek  the  king  and  have  his  position  de- 
fined. As  soon  as  he  deemed  it  likely  he  could  find  Nabonidos, 
he  presented  himself  at  the  door  of  the  reception  room.  The 
time  was  well  chosen.  Both  kings  were  in  their  places  ready  to 
receive  all  who  sought  them.  Kadasman  was  the  first  caller 
this  morning,  and  he  was  at  once  ushered  into  the  presence  of 
the  two  sovereigns. 

As  he  walked  across  the  large  apartment  he  fixed  his  gaze 
upon  Belshazzar  and  studied  the  lad  well.  A  few  months 


ENEMY  OR  FRIEND  199 

had  wrought  a  great  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  once 
handsome  youth.  Every  sign  of  unbridled  license  was  indelibly 
printed  upon  his  countenance.  Truly  he  had  become  his 
father's  son.  The  heart  of  the  fugitive  sank  within  him  as  he 
thought  of  his  beloved  country  with  its  destinies  intrusted  to 
such  hands  as  these.  Fair  Babylon  was  surely  in  desperate 
straits.  He  must  have  appeared  distrait  for  Nabonidos  called 
him  to  order  sharply. 

"Hast  thou  never  seen  a  king  before  that  thou  must  stare 
our  son  out  of  countenance?"  he  asked. 

Kadasman  recovered  his  bearing  instantly. 

"Yea,  O  King,"  he  answered,  "I  saw  both  thee  and  thy  son 
in  the  great  parade  at  coronation  time." 

The  remark  pleased  the  king.  The  coronation  parade  was  a 
pleasant  memory  to  the  monarch  and  those  brought  in  daily 
contact  with  him  sought  to  mention  it  whenever  opportunity 
afforded.  The  present  reference  put  him  in  better  humor. 

"What  errand  hast  thou  this  morning?"  he  asked,  not  un- 
kindly. 

"I  came,  noble  sir,  to  receive  thy  commands  concerning  my 
duties.  I  do  not  wish  to  remain  in  idleness  at  such  a  time  when 
danger  threatens." 

"I  have  no  commands  to  give  this  morning.  There  is  no 
need  of  haste.  Our  walls  are  strong,"  replied  the  king. 

"I  fear  there  will  be  work  enough  for  all  ere  long.  Canst 
thou  find  no  duty  I  can  perform,  no  message  I  can  carry?  My 
horse  is  both  swift  and  sure,"  persisted  the  Arab. 

"I  tell  thee,  sir,  I  have  no  orders  to  give  thee.  In  good  time 
duties  shall  be  found  for  thee.  For  the  present  eat,  drink  and 
be  merry.  Enjoy  life  while  thou  hast  opportunity.  When  the 
time  comes  for  us  to  take  the  field  all  festivities  will  cease — 
we  cannot  carry  our  wine  skins  into  battle.  When  I  need  thee 
I  will  send  thee  word.  So  now  begone;  no  doubt  others  are 
waiting." 

Kadasman  bowed  deferentially  and  withdrew.  As  he  passed 
through  the  anteroom  he  noted  with  surprise  that  none  awaited 


200  RHESA 

admittance  to  the  presence  of  the  kings.  Yet  this  was  a  nation 
preparing  for  war  with  the  foremost  military  power  on  earth. 
Truly  O  Babylon,  thy  friends  were  thy  worst  enemies! 

As  he  walked  leisurely  toward  the  palace  entrance,  Vul- 
maran  hurried  past  him.  The  rab  mag  paid  no  heed  to  the 
Arab.  The  latter  smiled  after  the  encounter  was  over,  smiled  to 
think  of  his  successful  deception.  Ah,  Sheshbazzar,  if  only  thou 
had  some  good  fairy  to  render  thee  invisible  and  convey  thee  to 
yonder  room  thou  wouldst  hear  the  rab  mag  cry  to  the  king: 
"Send  a  force  to  take  yonder  Arab.  He  is  Sheshbazzar,  the 
man  for  whom  we  have  searched  these  eleven  months."  The 
gold  talents  of  Neboakhu  had  purchased  the  Greek's  informa- 
tion! 

Meanwhile  the  unconscious  Arab,  secure  in  his  disguise,  was 
walking  leisurely  through  the  palace  hall.  His  step  was  slow 
as  is  aways  the  step  of  one  who  has  no  goal  in  view.  He  sud- 
denly conceived  the  idea  of  visiting  his  foster-father,  whom  he 
had  not  seen  since  Belshazzar's  coronation  day.  He  would 
have  preferred  visiting  a  certain  house  on  the  Borsipian  road 
but  he  felt  his  duty  to  the  old  priest  to  be  first. 

Afted  leaving  the  palace  he  strolled  leisurely  toward  the  mar- 
ket place.  He  wished  to  bid  farewell  to  his  desert  friends  and 
obtain  Saru  who  was  still  quartered  with  the  horses  of  the  cara- 
van. The  simple  Arabs  heard  with  wonder  the  tale  of  their 
former  comrade.  All  looked  upon  him  as  a  favored  being  and 
congratulated  him  accordingly.  It  was  with  deep  and  genuine 
regret  that  he  bade  adieu  to  these  simple  but  kindly  friends  who 
had  given  him  shelter  when  he  most  needed  it.  He  had  grown 
to  love  them  and  under  some  circumstances  would  have  enjoyed 
spending  his  days  among  them. 

After  bidding  these  kind  friends  farewell,  probably  forever, 
he  mounted  Saru  and  rode  away  toward  the  temple.  Here  was  a 
mistake.  Far  better  would  it  have  been  to  take  the  poorest 
mount  in  the  caravan,  for  what  judge  of  horseflesh,  having  once 
seen  Saru,  could  ever  forget  him? 

Shortly  after  turning  into  the  temple  street  Kadasman  met 


ENEMY  OR  FRIEND  201 

Iddin,  the  rab  mag's  son.  The  young  noble  hailed  the  Arab 
at  once  and  asked  to  ride  at  his  side  for  a  short  distance;  a  re- 
quest that  was  speedily  granted. 

"A  fine  horse  thou  hast  there,  my  friend,"  said  Iddin. 

"He  is,"  replied  the  Arab.  "This  line  of  horses  has  been 
bred  in  our  tribe  for  generations." 

"Hast  thou  ever  sold  any  here?" 

"Many.  We  sell  a  few  horses  here  every  spring,"  was  the 
reply. 

"I  thought  as  much.  I  once  knew  a  man  who  owned  a  horse 
that  resembled  thine  so  closely  that  he  must  have  been  one  of 
the  same  breed.  Mayhap  thou  sold  it  to  him.  His  name  was 
Nabomuran.  He  was  an  officer  in  our  army.  Dost  thou  re- 
member selling  him  a  horse?" 

"I  have  never  sold  a  horse  to  a  man  of  that  name,  but  this 
is  my  first  trip  here  with  the  caravan.  Mayhap  my  brothers 
sold  it  to  him." 

"He  has  another  name.  Thou  mayest  recall  him  by  that," 
pursued  Iddin. 

"What  was  his  other  name?" 

"Kadasman,"  replied  the  youth. 

Before  he  could  speak  another  word,  he  felt  himself  dragged 
from  his  horse's  back.  The  strong  right  hand  of  the  pseudo- 
Arab  held  him  as  in  a  vise.  Iddin's  horse,  frightened  at  the 
sudden  attack,  turned  and  ran  wildly  back  toward  the  market 
place. 

"Thou  art  rough,  my  friend,  and  hasty  too.  I  meant  thee 
no  harm.  I  only  intended  to  surprise  thee,"  said  Iddin. 

"Thou  didst  surprise  me  genuinely,"  said  the  prince  grimly. 

"I  alone  know  thee  to  be  Sheshbazzar  and  I  was  not  sure 
until  I  saw  thee  upon  that  horse,"  continued  Iddin,  who  was 
still  standing  upon  the  ground,  his  clothing  firmly  gripped  by 
the  man  beside  him.  Saru  stood  impatiently,  not  relishing  the 
sudden  stop. 

This  scene  had  taken  place  in  that  part  of  the  temple  street 
bordering  upon  the  great  reservoir.  At  this  hour  of  the  day 


202  RHESA 

the  street  was  deserted.  It  was  too  late  for  the  populace,  the 
working  classes,  to  be  abroad  and  too  early  for  the  chariots  to 
begin  their  promenade,  for  this  beautiful  street  was  the  Baby- 
lonian speedway. 

"Come,  sir,"  begged  Iddin,  "we  have  been  friends  from  child- 
hood. See  yonder  clump  of  trees  upon  the  water's  edge?  Let 
us  go  thither  that  I  may  talk  with  thee." 

The  prince  hesitated  a  moment.  He  scanned  Iddin's  face 
critically  and  searchingly,  but  his  gaze  had  no  effect  upon  the 
youth.  A  certain  feeling  of  confidence  in  him  arose  in  the 
prince's  mind.  He  dismounted  and  silently  followed  the  young 
man  to  the  retreat  mentioned.  He  tethered  Saru  to  one  of 
the  trees,  leaving  line  sufficient  to  permit  his  browsing  upon 
the  luxuriant  herbage  that  grew  upon  the  bank  of  the  vast 
artificial  lake.  The  two  young  men  seated  themselves  upon 
the  shelving  bank  in  the  shade  of  the  group  of  palms.  The 
morning  was  magnificent  and  yielding  to  their  inclinations,  they 
stretched  themselves  upon  the  greensward. 

"How  earnest  thou  to  discover  my  identity?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Well,"  answered  Iddin,  "it  was  accidental.  I  was  passing 
through  the  market  place  at  about  this  time  yesterday.  Actu- 
ated by  curiosity  I  stopped  to  watch  the  Arab  merchants  as 
they  displayed  their  wares  to  the  crowd.  While  I  was  thus 
watching  them  I  was  attracted  by  the  actions  of  a  Hebrew 
woman  who  passed  from  one  to  another  of  the  merchants  in 
a  peculiar  manner.  I  recognized  her  as  the  one  my  father's 
agents  were  watching,  for  rumor  made  her  the  love  of  Prince 
Sheshbazzar.  As  I  followed  her  with  my  eyes  she  reached  the 
last  merchant  in  the  row  and,  bending  over,  seemed  to  speak 
to  him  in  a  low  tone.  He  turned  and  entered  a  tent.  A  mo- 
ment later  he  returned  accompanied  by  a  young  man  whose  dress 
and  features  betokened  an  Arab  but  whose  stature  and  figure 
could  belong  to  but  one  man.  Still  I  was  not  certain.  His 
disguise  was  well  nigh  perfect.  Had  he  not  conversed  with 
that  one  Jewish  woman  it  is  doubtful  if  I  would  have  sus- 
pected him.  However  when  I  saw  that  Arab  mounted  upon 


ENEMY  OR  FRIEND  203 

Nabomuran's  horse  all  doubts  vanished  and  I  knew  that  Prince 
Sheshbazzar  had  returned  to  claim  his  throne." 

"It  is  useless  for  me  to  deny  being  that  person,"  said  the 
prince.  "Such  falsehood  would  not  deceive  thee.  Now  thou 
hast  penetrated  my  secret,  Iddin,  what  art  thou  contemplat- 
ing? Shalt  thou  put  thy  father's  spies  upon  my  track?" 

"Nay,  sir,"  replied  Iddin  soberly,  "I  shall  offer  thee  my  poor 
services." 

"What  meanest  thou?"  cried  the  exile,  half  rising. 

"Just  this.  I  am  disgusted  with  the  present  state  of  affairs 
and  will  gladly  join  thee  in  whatever  efforts  thou  mayest  make 
to  gain  thy  throne." 

Sheshbazzar  placed  one  hand  solemnly  upon  his  companion's 
arm  and  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes  for  a  moment. 

"Iddin,  art  thou  in  earnest  in  this  matter?  Do  not  raise  false 
hopes  within  my  breast  and  then  hand  me  over  to  the  king's 
guard,"  he  said  in  a  nervous  agitated  manner. 

"Prince,"  replied  the  young  man  firmly,  "I  will  subscribe  to 
any  oath  thou  requirest  of  me.  I  am  sincere.  My  mind  is 
settled  and  I  am  determined  to  follow  thee  to  the  end,  be  that 
end  what  it  may." 

"Throughout  my  life,"  he  continued,  "I  have  been  called  a 
gay  and  even  a  profligate  youth.  My  most  intimate  friends 
have  secretly  despised  me  for  the  utter  uselessness  of  my  life. 
My  very  name  has  been  a  synonym  for  profligacy.  'As  gay  as 
Iddin'  was  a  remark  heard  all  too  often.  Those  days  are  past. 
Mine  eyes  have  been  opened  and  from  henceforth  I  shall  live 
for  a  purpose.  I  shall  make  thee  that  purpose.  I  consider  thee 
my  lawful  king  and  as  such  I  shall  serve  thee  faithfully.  If 
when  thou  art  firmly  seated  upon  thy  throne  thou  findest  me 
worthy  and  appointest  me  to  an  office  under  thy  government 
I  shall  be  thankful  but  I  ask  for  no  promise.  Only  I  must  be 
free  to  worship  mine  own  God." 

"Thine  own  God!" 

"Yea,  Prince.     Thou  hast  heard  of  a  God  called  Jehovah? 


204  RHESA 

Him  I  worship,  in  secret  'tis  true,  but  nevertheless  I  worship 
Him.    He  is  the  one  God.    All  others  are  false." 

"Iddin,  what  has  caused  this  great  change  in  thy  life?"  in- 
quired the  astonished  listener,  scarcely  believing  it  could  be  his 
old  acquaintance  who  was  speaking. 

"A  Hebrew  maiden  has  shown  me  the  error  of  my  ways," 
responded  the  former  rake  solemnly. 

Sheshbazzar  laughed  for  the  first  time  in  months.  He  re- 
spected his  companion's  confidences  but  the  young  man's  solemn 
and  tragic  manner  of  speaking  appealed  to  his  sense  of  the 
ludicrous. 

"So  thy  heart  has  been  won  by  a  Jewish  maiden?"  said  the 
prince  after  a  moment  of  silence. 

"Yes,  I  have  found  love  among  that  strange  people.  Rumor 
has  it  that  thou  hast  given  thine  own  proud  heart  to  a  Jewess," 
answered  Iddin. 

"Yes,  Iddin,  I  have  found  the  maiden  of  my  choice  among 
the  Hebrews." 

"Hast  thou  also  learned  to  serve  Jehovah?"  asked  Iddin. 

"Nay,  I  still  serve  the  gods  that  have  never  failed  me.  I 
acknowledge  this  Jehovah  to  be  a  wonderful  God  but  I  see  no 
reason  for  changing  my  religion." 

After  a  brief  silence  the  conversation  turned  upon  Shesh- 
bazzar's  chances  of  success.  Iddin  began  it,  attempting  to  draw 
out  his  companion,  but  the  prince,  remembering  whose  son  he 
was,  was  cautious.  Without  question  Vulmaran  was  his  worst 
enemy.  However,  he  allowed  Iddin  to  do  the  planning,  he  being 
an  interested  listener. 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  Iddin,  "how  many  are  already  en- 
listed in  thy  cause?" 

"That  I  do  not  know  myself.  I  have  had  no  time  since  my 
return  to  confer  with  my  friends,"  replied  the  prince  cautiously. 

Iddin  was  not  abashed  at  the  lack  of  confidence  displayed  by 
the  prince,  but  rattled  on  as  though  he  were  already  the  chief 
confidant  of  the  pretender. 

"Of  course  we  can  count  on  Neboakhu,"  he  continued.    "He 


ENEMY  OR  FRIEND  205 

is  known  by  all  men  to  be  on  thy  side.  Then  there  is  Belibus 
and  nearly  all  of  his  men." 

"How  earnest  thou  by  such  information?"  demanded  the 
prince  sternly.  He  was  genuinely  afraid  for  his  friends  if  such 
information  was  public  property. 

"Oh,"  answered  the  youth  glibly,  "I  have  talked  with  them. 
I  have  been  interested  in  thy  cause  for  many  months  and  I  have 
often  sought  the  advice  of  Belibus.  He  himself  told  me  that 
nearly  all  the  members  of  the  Winged  Lions  are  in  thy  secret 
and  stand  ready  to  strike  for  thee." 

"That  is  pleasant  news,"  said  the^rince.  He  was  perplexed 
and  bewildered.  Evidently  the  rattlehead  was  deep  in  the 
councils  of  the  plotters,  but  still  the  fact  remained  of  his  being 
Vulmaran's  son. 

"I  doubt  not,"  continued  Iddin,  "that  all  the  priesthood  are 
on  thy  side.  They  are  certainly  supporting  Neboakhu,  else  the 
king  would  have  had  his  life  long  ago.  The  masses  too  have 
an  inkling  of  a  coming  conflict.  They  have  heard  thy  name 
and  are  waiting  for  the  king  who  will  arise  and  strike  off  the 
burdens  that  oppress  them." 

"With  all  these  on  our  side  we  should  win,"  mused  the 
prince,  as  one  speaking  to  himself. 

"Win !"  cried  Iddin,  "we  cannot  lose.  All  that  is  necessary 
is  for  thee  to  mature  thy  plans  and  give  the  word  for  all  who 
favor  thee  to  flock  to  thy  standard.  We  would  soon  have  an 
army  to  defy  all  Babylon." 

"And  all  Persia?"  queried  the  prince. 

Iddin's  face  fell. 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  he,  "there  is  the  only  cloud  upon  our  horizon. 
We  must  win  before  they  can  get  within  striking  distance. 
With  such  a  soldier  as  thee  for  king  we  could  meet  them  fear- 
lessly." 

"They  have  never  yet  met  with  defeat,"  said  the  prince 
sadly. 

"Neither  had  Assyria,  but  thy  great-grandfather  broke  her 
power." 


206  RHESA 

"That  was  an  entirely  different  matter.  Assyria  was  a  na- 
tion weakened  by  luxury  and  excess,  while  these  Persians  are 
stern  and  fierce  wrarriors,  hardy  and  rugged,  eating  only  the 
plainest  food  and  able  to  stand  all  sorts  of  hardship.  In  the 
coming  conflict  we  resemble  Assyria  more  than  does  Persia." 

"Nevertheless,  Prince  Sheshbazzar,  I  believe  thy  genius  can 
defeat  these  terrible  barbarians.  If  thou  only  claimed  Jehovah 
as  thy  god  we  might  invoke  His  aid." 

"Mine  own  gods  must  desert  me  first.  They  have  helped 
me  when  I  most  needed  them  and  they  will  help  me  win  my 
rights." 

Iddin  shook  his  head  in  so  sorrowful  a  manner  that  it  made 
the  man  beside  him  smile  again,  a  smile  of  pity  for  his  com- 
panion's superstition. 

"Nay  Sheshbazzar,  without  Jehovah  thou  canst  not  win 
though  all  the  world  be  on  thy  side,"  said  Iddin  solemnly. 

"I  pray  my  father  shall  not  recognize  thee,"  he  said  a  mo- 
ment later.  "Dost  thou  know,  were  it  not  for  the  sentence 
hanging  over  his  head  he  would  gladly  be  on  thy  side?" 

"What  sentence?" 

"The  king  has  decreed  that  unless  thou  art  captured  within 
one  year  from  the  time  of  thy  escape  my  father  shall  be  exe- 
cuted in  thy  place." 

"Iddin,"  said  the  prince  soberly,  "there  is  just  one  way  to 
save  thy  father's  life." 

"How?"  asked  the  youth. 

"We  must  win  before  that  time  expires." 

"Thou-  art  right,"  cried  Iddin  eagerly,  "and  thy  speech  re- 
moves a  load  from  my  mind.  We  must  lay  our  plans  at  once 
and  hurry  them  forward  to  a  successful  completion,  for  the 
remaining  time  is  short." 

There  was  a  clatter  of  hoofs  upon  the  pavement.  A  hurried 
shout  of  command  was  given  and  before  either  of  the  young 
men  could  gain  his  feet  they  were  surrounded  by  a  band  of 
soldiers.  One  glance  at  the  swarthy  faces  told  Sheshbazzar 


ALAS  FOR  JUDAH!  207 

these  were  men  who  had  never  known  him  nor  served  under 
him.  No  favors  could  be  expected  of  them. 

An  officer,  also  unknown,  stepped  forward  and  laying  a  hand 
upon  the  shoulder  of  Sheshbazzar,  said.  "Kadasman,  I  am 
ordered  to  take  thee  in  the  king's  name." 

Not  a  movement  was  made  in  Iddin's  direction.  The  pris- 
oner saw  this  at  once  and  turning  fiercely  upon  his  friend  of 
a  moment  before,  cried  passionately: 

"False  viper,  son  of  a  false  father.  I  ought  to  have  known 
better  than  to  trust  thee.  With  thy  smooth  tongue  hast  thou 
beguiled  me  until  these  should  arrive.  I  will  avenge  this  yet, 
Iddin.  From  this  moment  thou  art  cursed." 

Iddin  stood  pale  and  confused  beneath  this  denunciation.  He 
made  no  answer  but  suddenly  a  look  of  determination  came  into 
his  face.  Sheshbazzar  was  bound  and  blindfolded  and  placed 
upon  a  horse's  back.  After  he  was  securely  bound  to  his  steed 
the  company  started  off  in  a  northerly  direction.  Iddin  threw 
himself  upon  Saru's  back  and  galloped  off  ahead  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

ALAS  FOR  JUDAH  ! 

Orma  was  seated  upon  the  couch  in  her  favorite  bower, 
busily  engaged  with  a  piece  of  needlework.  As  she  worked  her 
brain  was  active;  indeed  her  thoughts  outdistanced  her  fingers, 
for  occasionally  her  needle  would  stop  and  her  hands  would  lie 
idly  in  her  lap.  Finally  she  laid  down  the  needlework,  and 
throwing  her  arms  behind  her  head,  leaned  back  against  the 
bower's  supports  and  gave  her  whole  attention  to  the  thoughts 
that  had  so  interfered  with  her  work. 

As  old  age  lives  in  the  past  so  youth  dwells  in  the  future. 
It  was  not  thoughts  of  the  past  that  triumphed  over  the  needle- 
work. Orma  was  thinking  of  the  present  and  the  future,  espe- 
cially as  they  concerned  the  life  of  herself  and  the  man  who  held 


208  RHESA 

so  important  a  place  in  her  heart  and  mind.  That  her  thoughts 
were  troubled  ones  was  manifest  by  the  cloud  of  sorrow  resting 
upon  her  usually  placid  brow.  What  girl  of  any  age  or  era 
could  have  pleasant  thoughts,  supposing  her  lover  to  be  stand- 
ing upon  the  brink  of  the  abyss  of  death  ? 

This  was  the  morning  following  the  events  of  the  previous 
chapter  and  Ulbar  had  just  brought  her  news  of  the  capture  of 
the  prince.  The  information  possessed  by  the  dwarf  was  meager 
and  unsatisfactory.  Not  a  word,  not  a  clue  had  come  from 
the  prince  since  his  capture  and  the  chief  spy's  sources  of  in- 
formation were  without  number.  One  in  their  secret,  the  door- 
tender  of  the  king's  anteroom,  gave  word  of  the  disclosure 
made  by  Vulmaran  and  a  captain  of  horse  being  sent  for  in 
haste.  He  further  stated  that  the  prisoner  had  not  been  taken 
before  the  king.  This  latter  was  strange  news.  Ulbar  argued 
that  as  the  prince  had  once  been  condemned,  it  was  unneces- 
sary for  Nabonidos  to  see  him  again. 

Orma  had  as  yet  seen  none  of  the  prince's  friends.  Trusted 
though  she  was  with  their  every  secret  and  act,  she  was  yet 
but  a  passive  conspirator.  Her  circumstances  prevented  her 
giving  any  direct  assistance.  Her  sex  and  the  social  position 
of  her  race  made  it  impossible,  much  as,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
high  rank  of  Nitocris  and  Halista  was  a  hindrance  to  them.  In 
fact  the  priests  were  the  only  adherents  of  Sheshbazzar  who 
had  any  great  liberty  of  action.  Belibus,  though  with  them 
heart  and  soul  and  ready  at  any  time  to  lay  down  his  life  if 
by  that  sacrifice  his  former  commander's  prospects  of  winning 
his  throne  would  be  enhanced,  occupied  a  position  of  respon- 
sibility. His  time  was  so  fully  occupied  with  his  duties  that 
he  had  little  opportunity  to  assist  his  fellow  conspirators,  save 
with  advice.  The  real  leader  therefore  was  Neboakhu.  The 
old  priest  with  a  few  trusted  subordinates  was  working  day 
and  night  for  the  cause  of  his  foster-son.  So  far  had  they 
progressed  in  gathering  friends  together  that  they  were  hoping 
to  bring  about  a  crisis  at  once.  Now  all  plans  were  over- 
thrown by  the  sharp  eyes  of  a  Greek  spy. 


ALAS  FOR  JUDAH!  209 

While  Orma  sat  thus  meditating  upon  these  conditions,  her 
father  entered  and  seated  himself  beside  her.  He  at  once 
perceived  that  she  was  in  trouble,  and  his  first  words  were  of 
inquiry  concerning  its  cause.  In  a  few  words  she  gave  him  all 
the  information  she  possessed  of  the  events  of  the  preceding 
day.  The  old  man  listened  attentively,  sorrowful  in  his  daugh- 
ter's sorrow,  but  having  no  real  concern  for  Prince  Sheshbaz- 
zar's  fate.  His  daughter's  love  for  an  idolater  was  daily  grow- 
ing more  distasteful  to  the  old  man.  Although  confident  that 
she  would  never  marry  against  his  wishes,  it  yet  troubled  him 
to  see  the  love  she  made  no  attempt  to  conceal. 

"God  is  our  Ruler,"  said  the  old  man  solemnly  as  she  fin- 
ished speaking. 

"I  know  He  is,  but  O  father,  this  last  sorrow  seems  more 
than  I  can  bear.  First  Heber  meets  death  at  the  hands  of 
yonder  king  and  now  the  prince,  the  noblest  and  best  of  men, 
follows  in  the  same  path.  O  father,  our  God  is  a  just  God. 
He  must  punish  the  crimes  of  this  wicked  king." 

"Give  not  up  hope  so  soon,  daughter.  He  has  once  escaped 
from  their  hands."  Thus  spake  Nehum  in  an  attempt  to  com- 
fort her,  but  it  came  not  from  the  heart  for  he  had  but  little 
hope  for  the  brave  prince.  She  shook  her  head  and  replied : 

"Nay,  father,  there  is  little  ground  for  hope.  His  previous 
escape  will  but  make  his  enemies  the  more  vigilant  to  see  that 
he  does  not  elude  them  this  time." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  Orma  looked  up 
lovingly  into  her  father's  face.  She  laid  one  hand  affectionately 
upon  his  knee,  as  she  asked:  "Father,  is  it  wrong  for  me  to 
pray  for  his  deliverance?" 

"Nay,  daughter.  Pray  earnestly  for  it  and  at  the  same  time 
pray  for  his  soul ;  pray  that  he  may  see  the  light  and,  forsaking 
his  idols  of  stone,  turn  unto  our  God,  the  Great  Ruler,  the  All 
Powerful." 

"Father?"  she  asked  after  another  brief  period  of  silence, 
"dost  thou  bear  ill  will  toward  the  prince?" 

"Nay,  daughter.     I  regret  that  thy  love  is  for  an  idolater 


210  RHESA 

but  were  he  a  worshiper  of  Jehovah  I  would  gladly  call  him 
'son'." 

"If  only  he  would  worship  as  we  do,"  she  said  sadly. 

For  the  moment  they  forgot  the  prince's  plight  and  spoke 
as  though  he  were  free. 

"All  is  possible  with  God,"  said  Nehum  reverently. 

"Only  this  day,"  he  continued,  "Joshua  informed  me  that  a 
young  noble,  the  son  of  a  high  officer  of  state,  had  made  earnest 
profession  of  faith  in  our  God.  Joshua  expects  to  receive  him 
into  our  worship  soon.  Thou  seest  then,  daughter,  there  is 
hope  of  his  eyes  being  opened  should  he  escape  from  his  present 
difficulty." 

"Joshua  then  has  returned?" 

"Ay,  he  has  been  in  the  city  for  several  days." 

"What  tidings  does  he  bring?" 

"Our  people  everywhere  are  zealous  in  worshiping  the  true 
God.  The  way  seems  open  for  our  deliverance.  Out  of  the 
present  crisis  may  come  happiness  for  our  people." 

"Father!"  cried  the  girl  suddenly,  as  one  possessed  of  a  new 
idea. 

"What  it  is,  my  dear?" 

"Suppose  the  deliverance  of  our  people  should  come  through 
the  prince." 

"It  is  possible,  my  dear,  possible.  God  works  through  many 
channels." 

"Joshua  brings  us  other  news  of  the  greatest  importance," 
continued  Nehum. 

.Orrna  said  nothing  but  waited  for  him  to  go  on. 

"He  brings  a  clue  to  the  identity  of  the  prince  of  Judah." 

An  animated  light  came  into  her  eyes.  "Has  he  been  found?" 
she  cried. 

"Nay,  daughter,  but  Joshua  secured  information  that  may 
lead  to  the  discovery  of  our  prince." 

"Father,"  she  said,  "explain  to  me  how  it  happens  Judah  is 
without  a  prince.  Thou  hast  told  me  once  but  I  do  not  quite 
understand  it." 


ALAS  FOR  JUDAH!  211 

"Gladly  will  I  do  so,  daughter,  and  then  I  will  tell  thee  of 
Joshua's  discovery.  As  thou  rememberest,  the  last  real  king 
of  Judah  was  Jehoiachin  who  reigned  but  three  months  and  ten 
days.  He  was  taken  prisoner  by  Nebuchadnezzar  and  brought 
captive  to  Babylon.  For  six  and  thirty  years  he  lay  in  the 
prison  of  the  king.  After  the  old  king's  death  his  son  Evil- 
Merodach  released  Jehoiachin  and  elevated  him  to  friendship 
with  himself.  He  died  shortly  before  the  good  king  was  mur- 
dered. Nowjehoiachin  died  childless  thus  leaving  no  direct  heir. 
His  next  of  kin  was  Shealtiel,  the  son  of  Neri.  He  was 
directly  descended  from  King  David  but  through  his  son  Nathan 
and  not  through  King  Solomon.  Shealtiel  died  soon  after  Jehoia- 
chin thereby  leaving  the  succession  again  open.  It  has  always 
been  believed  by  the  leaders  among  our  people  that  Shealtiel 
left  no  heirs,  in  which  case  either  his  brother  Pedaiah  or  Pe- 
daiah's  son  would  be  the  prince  of  Judah. 

"For  several  years  therefore  (ever  since  the  death  of  Sheal- 
tiel) our  leaders  have  been  searching  for  Pedaiah  but  without 
avail.  Here  rested  our  case  then  at  the  time  of  Joshua's  start 
for  the  south.  That  journey  was  undertaken  partly  to  carry 
on  the  search  for  our  hereditary  leader. 

"Now  listen,  daughter.  Among  our  people  living  in  the 
cities  of  the  south  Joshua  found  the  wife  of  Shealtiel  and  from 
her  lips  heard  a  wonderful  tale.  After  the  succession  of  Evil- 
Merodach  Shealtiel  and  his  wife  resided  in  the  royal  palace 
with  their  kinsman  Jehoiachin  and  while  there  the  wife  gave 
birth  to  a  son  who  was  named  Zerubbabel. 

"The  birth  of  the  prince  nearly  cost  her  her  life  and  for 
months  she  lay  upon  her  bed,  a  helpless  invalid,  the  child  being 
cared  for  by  a  servant.  Before  she  recovered  her  strength  the 
good  king  was  murdered  and  those  he  had  befriended  were 
turned  out  of  the  palace.  Among  those  turned  out  was  Sheal- 
tiel and  his  wife.  In  the  confusion  the  girl  had  vanished  and 
no  trace  of  the  child  was  found.  Soon  after  this  Shealtiel  died 
and  his  wife  sought  a  home  among  her  kindred  who  had  settled 
to  the  south  of  Babylon.  There  for  twenty-three  years  has  she 


212  RHESA 

remained,  hoping  and  praying  that  her  son  might  be  restored 
to  her.  That  is  all  we  know,  my  dear,  but  upon  this  tale  hangs 
the  hope  of  Judah.  If  that  child  be  living,  he  is  the  hereditary 
prince  of  Judah." 

"Father,"  said  the  girl  the  moment  he  finished  speaking,  "I 
have  a  thought  concerning  our  prince.  Thou  rememberest  the 
account  of  Prince  Sheshbazzar's  rescue  at  the  time  of  his  father's 
murder.  A  slave  girl  offered  her  child  that  the  little  prince 
of  Babylon  might  live.  No  mother,  however  humble  her  sta- 
tion, would  thus  sacrifice  her  own  babe.  Ah  no!  That  slave 
girl  gave  up  the  prince  of  Judah  to  save  the  prince  of  Baby- 
lon." 

"Alas,"  cried  the  old  man  in  tones  of  the  deepest  anguish. 
"I  see  it  all  as  thou  sayest.  Alas  for  Judah!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

IN   THE   HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY 

When  Kadasman  or  Sheshbazzar  found  himself  again  a  pris- 
oner in  the  hands  of  his  enemies  a  dull,  sickening  sense  of  com- 
plete failure  came  over  him,  crushing  his  proud  spirit.  From 
the  moment  he  had  been  informed  of  his  royal  birth  everything 
had  been  against  him.  He  now  felt  all  his  struggles  to  have 
been  made  in  vain.  He  found  himself  wishing  either  that 
Nitocris  had  not  revealed  his  rights  unto  him  or  else  that  Ulbar 
had  allowed  the  drowning  chamber  to  do  its  work.  Notwith- 
standing the  horror  of  the  death  the  agony  could  have  lasted 
but  a  few  moments,  and  then  oblivion  forever ;  no  more  trouble ; 
no  more  enemies. 

This  feeling  of  despair  at  length  gave  way  to  an  intense  feel- 
ing of  hatred.  If  only  he  could  escape  and  avenge  himself  upon 
his  enemies  he  would  afterwards  submit  to  torture  and  death. 
He  cursed  himself  for  allowing  Iddin's  words  to  beguile  him. 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY  213 

Meanwhile  here  he  was  tied  to  a  horse's  back,  bound  and  blind- 
folded, being  led  he  knew  not  whither,  except  that  it  would  end 
in  imprisonment  and  death.  As  the  moments  sped  by  he  won- 
dered at  the  length  of  time  required  to  convey  him  to  the  royal 
prison.  His  astonishment  increased  as  they  journeyed  onward, 
apparently  with  no  intention  of  stopping.  He  at  length  judged 
some  new  prison  to  have  been  provided  for  him  beyond  the 
border  of  the  city.  Long  since  they  must  have  passed  the 
palace  and  by  this  time  should  be  well  out  in  the  suburbs. 

At  length  the  shouting  of  soldiers  to  their  horses  and  the 
splashing  of  water  about  him  showed  them  to  be  fording  a  canal 
or  river.  The  prisoner's  astonishment  increased  as  each  hoof- 
beat  placed  them  farther  and  farther  from  the  city.  Still  more 
did  he  wonder  when  an  hour  later  they  forded  another  stream. 
He  was  all  at  sea  as  to  his  whereabouts. 

Suddenly  he  heard  the  clatter  of  hoofs  and  a  moment  later 
he  heard  the  ring  and  clash  of  arms  all  about  him.  A  thrill  of 
joy  ran  through  him,  awakening  every  dormant  sense.  Were  his 
friends  seeking  to  rescue  him?  Before  he  could  imagine  an 
answer  to  his  own  question  he  felt  a  hand  upon  his  horse's 
bridle  and  in  a  moment  his  animal  was  being  dragged  away  from 
the  melee.  He  saddened  instantly,  thinking  his  captors  were 
making  sure  of  him  at  all  events.  From  the  sounds  of  battle 
dying  away  and  the  speed  at  which  he  was  going,  he  judged  a 
detail  of  the  band  were  hurrying  him  to  a  place  of  safety,  leav- 
ing their  comrades  to  fight  it  out  with  his  friends. 

He  heard  a  horse  running  close  beside  him  and  a  moment 
later  a  voice  whispered  in  his  ear:  "Fear  not,  Sheshbazzar. 
Thou  art  in  the  hands  of  friends  and  not  enemies." 

The  voice  was  the  voice  of  Iddin,  the  rab  mag's  son!  Not- 
withstanding the  feelings  of  hate  and  contempt  he  had  lately 
held  for  the  youth,  a  faint  ray  of  hope  shot  through  his  soul. 
Had  his  friends  really  rescued  him?  His  judgment  answered 
him  nay.  Iddin  was  a  traitor  and  was  but  playing  with  his 
victim.  If  his  friends  had  really  rescued  him,  why  did  they  not 
unbind  and  unhoodwink  him  ?  Still,  argue  as  he  would,  Iddin's 


2i4  RHESA 

words  gave  him  hope.  Above  all  was  the  realization  that  some 
sort  of  conflict  had  taken  place. 

The  cavalcade  continued  their  journey  not  lessening  their 
speed  in  the  least  degree.  The  prisoner  pondered  why,  if 
Iddin's  words  were  false,  was  it  necessary  for  his  captors  to  keep 
up  such  a  terrific  pace.  If  they  were  king's  troops  they  had  no 
fear  of  pursuit.  His  hope  in  Iddin's  words  grew  stronger  as  he 
reasoned  thus.  If,  however,  he  was  in  the  hands  of  friends,  who 
might  those  friends  be?  Time  would  tell.  In  the  meantime 
he  resolved  to  sit  quietly  and  accept  whatever  fate  had  in 
store  for  him.  He  noticed  that,  save  for  an  occasional  low 
word  to  their  horses,  not  even  a  whisper  was  heard  throughout 
the  band. 

At  length  the  speed  was  slackened  and  they  soon  came  to  a 
halt.  He  judged  from  the  bustle  and  shouting  about  him  that 
they  were  making  ready  to  camp  for  the  night.  Soon  he  was 
lifted  from  the  saddle  and  placed,  tired  and  stiff,  upon  the 
ground.  A  meal  was  served  him  and  then  all  became  still.  He 
judged  it  to  be  late  and  turning  upon  his  right  side,  was  soon 
asleep. 

He  was  awakened  early  the  following  morning  and  made  to 
partake  of  a  hasty  breakfast.  Then  he  was  lifted  upon  his 
steed  and  the  company  resumed  their  journey.  A  few  moments 
after  starting  they  had  settled  into  the  sam<?  steady  gallop  pur- 
sued the  preceding  day.  Once  they  slackened  their  speed  and 
the  prisoner  knew  from  the  sounds  that  they  had  been  joined 
by  other  troops.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  yet  he  was  sure  the 
numbers  of  those  about  him  had  been  increased.  The  prisoner 
judged  they  had  been  riding  for  six  or  seven  hours  when  at 
last  the  cavalcade  halted.  He  felt  his  bonds  loosened.  A 
hoarse  voice  (he  felt  sure  it  was  disguised)  commanded  him  to 
dismount.  He  obeyed  quickly  and  quietly.  If  in  the  hands  of 
friends  he  had  nothing  to  fear;  if  in  the  power  of  enemies  re- 
sistance would  be  futile. 

He  was  led,  still  blindfolded  but  entirely  unbound,  up  a 
flight  of  steps  into  a  building,  down  a  corridor,  up  another 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY          215 

flight  of  steps,  down  another  corridor  and  into  a  room.  When 
inside  he  felt  some  one  fumbling  at  his  hoodwink.  Another 
second  and  the  bandage  was  removed,  restoring  his  sight  to  him. 
He  stood  still  a  moment  blinking  in  the  bright  sunlight.  In 
that  moment  his  unseen  conductor  escaped  through  the  door 
and  the  prince  could  hear  the  bolts  shot  into  place.  He  was 
still  a  prisoner  then,  but  in  whose  hands  remained  a  mystery. 

The  room  in  which  he  found  himself  bore  little  resemblance 
to  a  prison,  even  though  he  was  confined  therein.  It  was  large 
and  light  and  contained  all  the  furniture  necessary  to  its  occu- 
pant's comfort.  As  the  prince  glanced  about  it  he  compared  it  to 
the  other  cell  he  had  occupied  and  his  hope  in  Iddin's  good 
faith  grew  stronger.  Vulmaran  would  never  have  confined  him 
in  such  a  pleasant  place.  If  however,  he  was  in  the  hands  of 
friends,  why  was  it  necessary  to  still  keep  him  in  confinement? 

As  to  the  building  containing  his  cell  a  glance  out  of  the 
wide  window  showed  it  to  be  the  country  residence  of  some 
person  of  note  and  consequence.  From  the  character  of  the 
land  he  felt  sure  he  had  been  carried  toward  the  north.  His 
window  looked  out  upon  a  large  courtyard,  now  completely 
filled  with  soldiers.  He  noted  them  carefully  but  all  appeared 
unfamiliar  to  his  eye.  Evidently  Nabonidos  had  drawn  heavily 
upon  the  subject  tribes,  for  none  of  the  troops  here  represented 
were  Babylonians.  The  opposite  side  of  the  courtyard  was 
enclosed  only  by  a  low  stone  wall,  thus  affording  him  a  view  of 
the  country  beyond. 

Whatever  was  the  nature  of  that  country  it  was  now  im- 
possible to  see,  for  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  the  landscape 
was  covered  with  white  tents,  stretching  away  row  after  row 
until  they  passed  over  the  brow  of  a  slight  elevation.  How  far 
down  the  opposite  slope  they  ran  he  could  not  tell. 

The  size  of  the  camp  both  astonished  and  pleased  the  pris- 
oner. He  was  surprised  that  Nabonidos  had  been  able  to 
gather  together  so  vast  an  army  in  such  a  short  time.  It  bor- 
dered on  the  miraculous.  What  surprised  him  also  was  the 
great  discipline  and  order  manifest  throughout  the  camp.  Long 


216  RHESA 

ago  he  had  urged  upon  the  king  the  necessity  of  better  training 
for  the  Babylonian  soldiery  and  he  was  now  pleased  to  see  the 
fruition  of  his  suggestions. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  he  spent  at  the  window  gazing 
upon  the  wonderful  scene  before  him.  All  was  activity.  He 
could  see  mounted  men  dashing  about  through  the  camp,  while 
occasionally  a  general  officer,  followed  by  his  retinue,  ambled 
up  the  hillside.  The  scene  in  the  courtyard  was  particularly  one 
of  bustle.  Messengers  came  galloping  in,  hurriedly  dismount- 
ing, and  disappearing  within  the  building.  His  heart  sank 
within  him  as  slowly  it  dawned  upon  him  that  the  villa  con- 
taining his  cell  was  the  general  headquarters  of  the  camp. 
Soon,  if  not  already,  Nabonidos  would  be  under  the  same  roof 
with  him.  Again  his  mistrust  of  Iddin  returned.  Still  if  he  was 
a  prisoner  of  Nabonidos  that  monarch  had  completely  changed 
his  methods  of  treating  offenders. 

Toward  night  the  door  of  his  chamber  opened  and  a  negro 
entered  bearing  a  tray  with  a  most  appetizing  repast  thereon. 
Having  been  without  food  and  drink  since  early  morning  he  was 
in  a  condition  to  do  ample  justice  to  the  meal  provided.  While 
he  ate  the  servant  stood  silently  behind  him  and  when  he 
finished,  carried  the  tray  away.  The  prisoner  heard  him  as 
he  carefully  barred  the  door  behind  him.  He  had  no  more 
visitors  that  day,  and  as  soon  as  the  room  became  dark,  he 
stretched  himself  upon  his  couch. 

Weary  from  his  long  ride  he  soon  fell  into  a  deep  sleep  and 
did  not  rouse  until  the  bright  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  falling 
across  his  face,  awakened  him.  He  arose  at  once  and  hurriedly 
put  on  such  of  his  attire  as  he  had  removed  before  lying  down. 
To  his  astonishment  he  found  that  his  coarse  Arab  dress  had 
been  removed  and  in  its  place  he  found  garments  of  the  richest 
materials  and  dyes.  Once  arrayed  in  them  he  felt  himself  again 
a  Babylonian  noble.  Standing  upon  a  low  stool  beside  his 
couch  was  a  beautiful  helmet  of  polished  bronze,  studded  with 
pure  gold,  and  leaning  against  the  wall  near  at  hand  was  a 
long  bright  sword.  Had  the  prince  possessed  a  mirror  he 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY  217 

would  have  noted  with  surprise  that  the  stain  had  been  removed 
from  his  face,  and  his  beard  had  been  trimmed. 

Shortly  after  he  had  completely  attired  himself  in  the  fine 
vestments  furnished  by  his  generous  captor,  the  door  opened 
and  the  servant  again  appeared.  Again  the  prisoner  did  full 
justice  to  the  meal  provided.  From  the  viands  composing  his 
dainty  breakfast  he  derived  the  first  hint  as  to  his  whereabouts, 
for  the  food  was  not  Babylonian  in  its  character.  As  before  the 
servant  gathered  up  the  remains  of  the  meal  and  left  as  soon 
as  the  prince  had  finished  eating.  Again  the  prisoner  heard  the 
door  barred.  Surely  beneath  the  glove  of  velvet  could  be  felt 
the  hand  of  iron. 

The  day  wore  away  slowly.  Soldier  though  he  was  and 
closely  as  he  studied  the  camp  outside,  the  occupation  proved 
monotonous.  He  paced  up  and  down  the  apartment;  he  lay 
down ;  he  did  all  he  could  to  while  away  the  time.  If  his  first 
day  of  confinement  passed  thus  slowly  what  would  those  to  fol- 
low be?  Noon  came  and  with  it  came  the  negro  with  a  light 
lunch.  The  servant  departed  as  before,  barring  the  door  behind 
him.  The  prisoner  gave  himself  up  to  another  weary  time  of 
waiting  and  watching. 

He  was  not  doomed  longer  to  endure  his  solitary  confinement, 
however,  for  shortly  after  the  negro's  departure  he  heard  other 
footsteps  approaching.  They  stopped  before  his  door  and  he 
heard  the  bar  removed.  The  door  swung  open  and  a  man 
entered,  closing  the  door  behind  him.  Sheshbazzar  gazed  upon 
him  in  perplexity.  It  seemed  as  if  those  handsome,  mobile 
features  were  known  to  him,  but  for  the  moment  he  could  not 
remember  where  he  had  seen  them.  In  an  instant,  however,  he 
remembered  the  man  and  advanced  joyously  to  meet  him. 

"Rastagus!"  he  cried,  grasping  both  his  hands. 

"Nabomuran!"  exclaimed  the  other. 

"Call  me  no  longer  Nabomuran,"  said  the  prisoner.  "I  am 
that  Sheshbazzar  of  whom  we  spoke  upon  the  desert." 

"Prince  of  Babylon,  I  salute  thee !"  exclaimed  the  Mede. 


2i8  RHESA 

"I  too  must  change  my  name,"  he  said  a  moment  later. 
"Hereafter  know  me  as  Cyrus,  King  of  Anshan." 

The  words  were  spoken  quietly  but  with  a  simple  dignity  in 
perfect  keeping  with  the  lofty  position  of  the  man.  Shesh- 
bazzar  recoiled  a  step  from  sheer  astonishment.  His  old  com- 
panion of  the  desert,  the  conqueror  of  Asia?  It  seemed  incred- 
ible; his  mind  scarcely  comprehended  the  simple  announcement. 
Yet  the  man  before  him  was  every  inch  a  king,  and  clad  in  a 
manner  which,  while  of  studied  simplicity,  was  in  keeping  with 
his  station. 

Cyrus  smiled  at  the  effect  his  announcement  had  upon  his 
guest.  He  waited  a  moment  for  the  first  surprise  to  die  away 
and  then  addressed  the  prince. 

"Prince  Sheshbazzar,"  he  began,  "the  events  of  the  past  two 
days  must  have  been  perplexing  unto  thee.  Thou  wert  taken 
prisoner  by  the  troops  of  Nabonidos  but  awake  to  find  thyself 
a  guest  of  Cyrus.  The  explanation  is  simple.  For  some  rea- 
son I  cannot  fathom  the  troops  of  King  Nabonidos  carried  thee 
out  of  the  city  and  headed  north  toward  Sippara.  The  only 
motive  I  can  conceive  for  this  course  was  the  fear  of  thy  friends. 
I  am  told  thou  once  escaped  from  the  king's  hands  and  there- 
fore he  probably  feared  thy  friends  would  again  rescue  thee. 
However  that  may  be,  to  the  course  pursued  by  thy  captors  I  am 
indebted  for  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  thee. 

"A  body  of  my  cavalry  was  reconnoitering  in  the  vicinity  of 
Babylon  when  they  encountered  a  solitary  horseman,  riding 
fiercely  northward.  They  stopped  him  and  questioned  him.  He 
informed  them  a  young  man  of  high  birth  had  been  taken  pris- 
oner and  would  be  conveyed  along  that  road.  Recognizing  them 
as  belonging  to  my  army  he  requested  them  to  rescue  the  pris- 
oner and  conduct  him  to  my  camp.  He  pledged  himself  that 
I  would  approve  of  such  action.  The  soldiers  accordingly 
selected  a  strategic  position  and  then  awaited  the  coming  of 
thy  captors.  At  length  they  appeared  and  my  men  charged 
them.  During  the  struggle  thou  wert  rescued  and,  without 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY  219 

waiting  for  the  encounter  to  end,  a  half  dozen  of  the  men 
rode  away  with  thee. 

"As  their  act  was  unauthorized  by  me  they  continued  to  treat 
thee  as  a  prisoner  and  this  treatment  was  continued  up  to  the 
moment  I  entered  this  room.  The  young  man  who  brought 
word  of  thy  capture  sought  me  out  and  informed  me  of  all 
concerning  thee.  I  heard  with  pleasure  of  thy  presence  and 
gave  orders  concerning  thy  care.  I  have  waited  thus  long 
before  seeking  thy  presence  in  order  to  give  thee  time  to  re- 
cover from  the  weariness  caused  by  thy  adventures. 

"Now,  prince,  listen  to  me.  Upon  the  memorable  night  I 
spent  as  thy  guest  on  the  desert  I  related  to  thee  a  tale  which 
at  the  time  I  little  imagined  bore  such  reference  to  thyself. 
Thou  rememberest  the  tale?  I  told  of  meeting  an  old  Chal- 
dean in  his  cave  and  of  the  vow  I  made  at  that  time;  that  I 
would  assist  the  young  Prince  of  Babylon  in  gaining  his  throne. 
That  prince  has  been  found  in  thy  person  and  I  stand  here  this 
day,  backed  by  an  army  whose  numbers  I  do  not  know  myself, 
prepared  to  redeem  the  vow  made  by  me  more  than  twenty 
years  ago." 

He  ceased  speaking  and  stood  as  if  waiting  for  an  answer. 

"I  do  not  understand  thee,"  said  Sheshbazzar. 

"In  other  words,  my  friend,  I  stand  ready  to  place  thee  upon 
thy  father's  throne,"  replied  Cyrus. 

The  full  sense  of  the  great  conqueror's  generosity  did  not  at 
first  appear  to  the  young  man.  Yet  here  was  a  king,  confident 
of  capturing  a  great  empire  and  adding  it  to  his  own  domain, 
offering  to  give  away  that  empire  as  he  would  bestow  a  silver 
piece  upon  his  servant.  As  it  dawned  upon  the  prince's  mind 
he  was  astonished  at  the  offer,  an  offer  absolutely  without 
parallel  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Such  an  unselfish  use  of 
power  had  never  before  been  known.  What  a  difference  the 
acceptance  of  that  offer  might  have  made  in  the  world's  his- 
tory! 

Sheshbazzar  was  silent  for  several  moments.  He  was  think- 
ing as  never  man  thought  before.  He  reviewed  all  the  points 


22O  RrllLoA 

involved  in  the  conqueror's  generous  offer.  He  even  looked 
far  into  the  future,  striving  to  read  his  duty.  Truly  what  a 
temptation  was  placed  before  this  young  man !  Would  he  have 
the  strength  to  obey  the  commands  of  his  conscience?  When, 
at  last  he  raised  his  head  the  battle  had  been  fought,  the  vic- 
tory won. 

"King  Cyrus,"  he  said,  "such  generosity  was  never  before 
heard  of.  Unborn  generations  shall  learn  of  this  and  hold  thy 
name  in  reverence  for  it.  For  myself,  my  poor  tongue  is 
unable  to  express  my  appreciation  of  thine  offer,  but,  King 
Cyrus,  I  cannot  accept  it. 

"While  I  oppose  my  king  and  seek  to  wrest  from  him  the 
throne  that  is  not  his  right,  I  am  yet  a  Babylonian.  Dame 
Babylon  is  my  mistress  and  I  would  be  unworthy  of  her  love 
were  I  to  accept  the  means  thou  offerest  me  of  winning  her. 
Most  noble  and  mighty  king,  greatly  as  I  prize  thy  friendship 
I  must  refuse  thine  offer  even  at  the  cost  of  that  friendship." 
Sheshbazzar  spoke  these  words  solemnly,  fully  expecting  them 
to  turn  a  powerful  friend  into  a  yet  more  powerful  enemy.  His 
astonishment  was  great,  therefore,  when  Cyrus  grasped  both 
his  hands  warmly. 

"Sheshbazzar,"  he  cried,  his  face  alight  with  enthusiasm, 
"thou  art  a  man  after  mine  own  heart.  Because  of  my  vow 
it  was  my  duty  to  offer  thee  my  help,  but  I  honor  thee  far  more 
for  refusing  that  offer  than  I  would  for  accepting  it.  Prince, 
believe  me  sincere  when  I  say,  did  I  feel  myself  free  to  consult 
mine  own  inclinations,  I  would  gladly  turn  my  back  upon 
Babylon  and  leave  thee  free  to  win  thy  throne.  This  present 
campaign  is  not  for  mere  personal  glory  or  territorial  aggran- 
dizement. Were  those  my  objects  before  tomorrow's  sun  was 
half  way  on  its  journey  toward  the  zenith  every  tent  on  yonder 
plain  would  disappear  and  every  man  would  be  faced  toward 
Persia.  However,  that  cannot  be.  I  feel  myself  an  instrument 
in  Almighty  hands,  a  tool  of  a  Divine  workman.  I  am  des- 
tined to  carry  Divine  punishment  to  yonder  city,  to  carry  lib- 
erty to  an  imprisoned  people. 


ON  THE  MARCH  221 

"Therefore  I  cannot  relinquish  my  undertaking,  but  one 
opportunity  I  can  give  thee.  Go  thou  to  Babylon,  raise  an  army 
and  come  out  to  do  me  battle.  We  need  not  meet  personally. 
Upon  the  issue  of  that  battle  we  will  abide.  If  thou  canst  but 
check  my  advance  I  shall  take  it  as  an  omen  from  the  gods  and 
withdraw,  leaving  thee  to  thy  kingdom.  I  shall  fight,  however, 
as  I  have  never  fought  before  and  nothing  short  of  a  miracle 
can  prevent  my  reaching  the  gates  of  Babylon.  Once  I  reach 
those  gates  thy  kingdom  is  doomed." 

"I  accept  thine  offer  or  challenge,  whichever  it  may  be 
termed,"  said  the  prince.  "I  will  go  directly  to  Babylon,  de- 
clare myself  before  the  people,  trusting  to  the  gods  to  give  me 
success." 

"Tomorrow  then,"  said  Cyrus,  "I  will  turn  over  to  thee  all 
the  Babylonian  prisoners  I  have  taken  thus  far,  together  with 
such  horses  and  accoutrements  as  thou  wilt  need  for  them.  With 
thy  departure  at  their  head  I  shall  consider  my  vow  fulfilled 
and  from  that  time  forward,  until  the  battle  decides  who  rules 
Babylon,  we  are  enemies.  Whichever  wins,  from  that  time  on- 
ward to  eternity  we  are  friends.  I  half  hope  the  victory  will 
be  thine  but  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to  defeat  thee." 

Both  men  smiled.  There  was  something  so  unusual,  so  un- 
real about  this  compact.  These  two  men,  now  the  best  of 
friends,  were  coolly  planning  to  become  the  worst  of  enemies 
and  then,  when  one  of  them  was  beaten,  become  friends  again. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

ON    THE    MARCH 

The  following  morning  a  rather  motley  company  was  gath- 
ered in  the  courtyard  of  King  Cyrus's  headquarters.  It  con- 
sisted of  all  the  Babylonian  soldiers  the  conqueror  had  picked 
up  during  his  rapid  march  across  the  plains  of  Chaldea.  They 
had  composed  the  numerous  small  and  detached  garrisons  that 


222  RHESA 

were  strung  along  the  northern  and  western  frontiers.  All  had 
surrendered  to  Cyrus  after  a  mere  show  of  resistance.  In  all 
they  numbered  nearly  six  hundred  men  an4  all  were  soldiers 
trained  to  their  vocation  and  inured  to  hardships.  Many  a  suc- 
cessful rebellion  has  started  with  fewer  numbers. 

King  Cyrus  had  shown  no  niggardly  spirit  in  mounting  and 
arming  the  band.  He  gave  as  good  as  he  had,  and  he  had  the 
best  the  world  of  his  day  afforded.  The  soldiers  as  yet  had  no 
idea  of  their  destination.  Exchanges  of  prisoners  were  a  court- 
esy of  war  unknown  at  that  time  and  once  a  man  became  a 
prisoner  to  the  enemy  he  became  his  slave.  It  is  more  than 
probable  the  majority  of  the  men  supposed  they  had  been  given 
their  freedom  that  they  might  serve  under  the  banner  of  Cyrus, 
and  such  was  the  level  of  Babylonian  patriotism  at  the  time 
that  they  would  have  obeyed  implicitly  if  such  had  been  their 
orders. 

When  all  was  ready  for  the  start  Sheshbazzar  came  out  of 
the  villa  and  critically  looked  them  over.  He  passed  up  and 
down  the  ranks,  examining  the  horses,  the  arms,  the  mules, 
the  servants.  His  inspection  convinced  him  yet  more  of  the 
conqueror's  disinterestedness  and  generosity.  He  turned  to 
mount  the  horse  a  servant  was  holding  for  him.  A  smile  of 
glad  surprise  lit  up  his  features  as  he  noticed  the  steed  to  be  his 
beloved  Saru.  Without  questioning  the  manner  of  his  being 
there  he  vaulted  to  his  back.  Turning  in  his  saddle  he  ordered 
his  company  to  fall  in.  Slowly  they  wheeled  their  horses  into 
columns  of  fours.  The  Persian  soldiers  standing  about  laughed 
at  their  clumsiness. 

"Forward,"  cried  Sheshbazzar  and  the  cavalcade  was  in- 
stantly in  motion. 

King  Cyrus  failed  to  show  himself  at  this  time.  Earlier  in 
the  morning  he  had  visited  his  guest  and  engaged  him  in  a  brief 
conversation,  after  which  they  parted  not  to  meet  again  until 
the  day  of  battle.  Out  through  the  archway  the  prince  led  his 
command  and  once  outside  he  headed  southwest  toward  the 
Sippara  road. 


ON  THE  MARCH  223 

Sheshbazzar  as  he  rode  across  the  grassy  plains,  strove  to  map 
out  some  plan,  some  course  of  action.  Here  he  was  at  the 
head  of  six  hundred  men,  not  enough  to  make  a  satisfying  meal 
for  the  soldiers  of  Nabonidos  should  they  turn  cannibals,  and 
he  realized  he  could  do  little  with  the  force  now  at  his  com- 
mand, but  where  could  he  dispose  of  them  until  others  could 
be  enlisted.  There  were  many  topics  of  thought  all  demand- 
ing instant  attention.  His  status  with  the  men,  they  following 
him  blindly  they  knew  not  whither,  must  be  defined,  but  he 
doubted  the  wisdom  of  taking  them  into  his  confidence  at  once. 
None  knew  as  well  as  he  how  the  army  of  Babylon  teemed  with 
spies.  He  doubted  not  that  Cyrus  knew  the  details  of  every 
regiment  in  the  service  of  Nabonidos. 

He  realized,  however,  that  this  was  a  chance  he  must  accept 
sooner  or  later,  as  he  could  not  expect  loyalty  from  men  who 
knew  not  for  whom  or  what  they  served.  At  present  not  a 
man  among  them  was  known  to  his  commander  by  name.  He 
felt  himself  in  a  delicate  position.  He  longed  for  a  confidant, 
an  adviser.  He  resolved  to  enlist  the  services  of  Belibus  at  the 
first  opportunity,  but  he  felt  the  need  of  an  adviser  at  the  pres- 
ent moment. 

So  intent  was  he  upon  these  thoughts  he  paid  little  heed  to 
what  was  going  on  about  him.  He  glanced  up  occasionally  to 
see  that  he  was  leading  his  men  in  the  right  direction  but  not 
once  did  he  look  behind  him.  He  did  not  therefore  observe 
the  rapid  approach  of  two  galloping  horsemen  who  were  strain- 
ing every  nerve  to  catch  up  with  him.  Unconsciously  the  prince 
had  allowed  Saru  to  travel  at  a  rapid  pace  and  his  followers 
were  obliged  to  hurry  their  beasts  to  keep  up  with  him.  At 
length  the  two  horsemen  caught  up  with  the  band  and  in  an- 
other moment  were  abreast  of  its  commander. 

Sheshbazzar  turned  quickly  at  sight  of  two  men,  one  riding 
on  either  side  of  him.  He  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in 
astonishment  although  he  had  suspected  one  of  them  to  be  with 
Cyrus.  The  newcomers  were  Iddin,  son  of  Vulmaran,  and 


224  RHESA 

Heber,  son  of  Nehum.    After  a  brief  word  with  the  first  named, 
the  prince  turned  affectionately  to  his  former  servant. 

"Heber,"  he  said,  "I  supposed  thee  dead.  Thrice  welcome 
then  is  this  meeting.  Tell  me  how  it  happens  thou  art  alive 
and  at  liberty." 

Heber  related  the  incidents  of  his  life  from  the  moment 
he  had  angrily  parted  with  his  master  up  to  the  present.  He 
flushed  deeply  as  he  told  of  his  compact  with  Vulmaran,  but 
the  prince  smilingly  reassured  him. 

"I  have  permission  from  King  Cyrus  to  join  thee  in  thine 
undertaking  and  here  I  am  master,  ready  to  retrieve  the  past 
with  my  life  if  needs  be,"  he  said  in  closing. 

"Ah  Heber,"  was  the  reply,  "we  little  know  in  what  paths 
our  passions  will  lead  us.  Thou  fell  a  victim  to  thine  ambition, 
as  many  a  man  has  done  before;  as  indeed  I  may  before  this 
present  venture  is  completed." 

"Dost  thou  then  accept  my  services?"  asked  the  young  Jew 
eagerly. 

"Gladly,  Heber." 

"And  mine?"  asked  Iddin. 

"And  thine  also,  Iddin,"  he  replied. 

Turning  to  the  rab  mag's  son  he  held  out  his  hand. 

"Iddin,  canst  thou  forgive  and  forget  the  hasty  words  I 
spake  unto  thee  when  I  found  myself  a  prisoner?  Remem- 
bering whose  son  thou  wast,  I  suspected  thee  of  having  betrayed 
me  into  the  hands  of  mine  enemies.  I  have  since  bitterly  re- 
pented the  words." 

"Thy  words  stung  me  at  the  time,  Prince,  but  I  have  since 
forgotten  them.  I  can  see  how  thou  wouldst  suspect  me.  Had 
I  been  in  thy  place  no  doubt  I  would  have  said  more  than  thou 
didst,"  replied  Iddin,  smiling. 

Sheshbazzar  now  possessed  companions  with  whom  he  could 
discuss  his  plans.  True,  neither  was  very  valuable  as  an  ad- 
viser but  even  such  rattle-brains  as  Iddin  sometimes  advance 
original  ideas.  Moreover  both  men  were  devoted  to  him,  not- 
withstanding that  both  had  previously  opposed  him,  Heber  in 


ON  THE  MARCH  225 

active  rebellion  and  Iddin  by  assisting  his  intriguing  father. 
The  prince  had  no  hesitation  about  placing  his  affairs  before 
his  companions.  He  explained  to  them  the  problems  con- 
fronting him.  Both  advanced  suggestions  and  strange  to  state, 
their  suggestions  coincided.  The  plan  outlined  by  Heber  and 
concurred  in  by  Iddin  while  simple,  impressed  its  salient  points 
upon  the  prince.  It  embraced  first,  the  selection  of  an  easily 
found  but  at  the  same  time  secluded  spot  for  a  camp  where 
Sheshbazzar  and  his  men  could  remain  while  Heber  and  Iddin 
went  on  to  Babylon.  They  would  at  once  place  themselves  in 
touch  with  the  prince's  friends  and  begin  active  recruiting. 
Once  the  force  had  acquired  sufficient  strength  they  would 
march  on  the  city  and  wait  for  a  dark  night  when  the  priests 
or  some  other  friendly  party  would  open  the  gates  to  them. 

"Wilt  thou  accept  recruits  from  among  my  people?"  asked 
Heber. 

The  prince  remained  in  thoughtful  silence  for  some  moments. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  his  mind  had  dwelt  upon  this  question. 
Heber  waited  quietly  for  the  answer  he  expected. 

"No,  Heber,"  said  the  prince  finally.  "Thou  knowest  the 
regard  I  have  for  thy  people  but  in  the  present  case  I  would 
prefer  not  to  enlist  their  services.  I  fear  the  acceptance  of 
Jews  might  deter  some  whom  I  desire  from  joining  me." 

The  words  were  spoken  kindly  and  Heber  had  sufficient  sense 
to  prevent  his  taking  offense  at  them.  He  could  appreciate  his 
former  master's  reasoni  for  the  decision. 

The  plan  suggested  for  the  conduct  of  their  campaign  was 
again  taken  up  and  considered  in  all  its  phases.  They  felt  the 
necessity  of  at  once  finding  such  a  spot  as  they  had  in  mind 
for  a  camping  place.  The  prince  decided  it  ought  to  be  at 
least  a  day's  journey  from  Babylon;  in  other  words  about  mid- 
way between  the  city  and  the  present  location  of  the  Persian 
forces.  To  find  a  place  at  once,  secure  from  observation  and 
yet  so  easily  found  as  to  enable  their  recruits  to  reach  it  without 
difficulty,  seemed  an  impossibility.  Such  a  spot  would  be  an 
anomaly,  but  ere  nightfall  they  found  one. 


226  RHESA 

Heber's  plan  had  one  defect  in  the  eyes  of  Sheshbazzar.  It 
necessitated  taking  his  present  troops  into  his  confidence  at 
once,  a  step  he  dreaded,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  alternative. 
As  Iddin  truly  said,  it  must  be  done  sooner  or  later  and  perhaps 
it  would  be  best  to  learn  at  once  those  they  could  depend 
upon.  Still  it  was  a  step  at  variance  with  the  prince's  better 
wisdom,  realizing  as  he  did  how  one  traitor  can  overbalance 
a  thousand  friends.  It  being  necessary  to  take  such  a  step, 
it  was  decided  the  men  should  be  called  together  and  told  all, 
trusting  to  the  almost  universal  hatred  of  Nabonidos  to  in- 
sure their  taking  the  prince's  part. 

The  day's  march  was  uneventful.  Aside  from  a  brief  stop 
for  lunch  upon  the  banks  of  a  small  stream,  they  kept  steadily 
on  without  interruption.  The  only  variety  to  the  monotony 
of  their  steady  progress  was  the  constant  search  for  the  de- 
sired camping  place.  Occasionally  Heber  or  Iddin,  or  per- 
haps both,  would  gallop  ahead  of  the  rest  to  search  for  such 
a  spot.  Late  in  the  afternoon  Heber  left  them  for  at  least 
the  fourth  or  fifth  time  and  was  soon  lost  to  sight.  So  long 
was  he  gone  that  at  last  Sheshbazzar  halted  his  troops,  fearing 
that  the  young  man  had  left  the  route  they  were  traversing  and 
had  been  passed  by.  As  the  prince  was  on  the  point  of  sending 
out  parties  to  search  for  him,  he  was  seen  coming,  galloping 
across  a  large  field  and  waving  his  arm  in  glee. 

"I  have  found  the  exact  spot  we  desire,"  he  cried  when 
within  hearing. 

Iddin  was  left  in  command  of  the  troops  while  Heber  led  the 
prince  to  the  spot  he  had  found.  The  commander  was  fully 
satisfied  with  the  site  and  they  returned  to  the  road  where  the 
main  body  awaited  them.  The  command  to  move  forward  was 
given  and,  preceded  by  Heber,  they  marched  across  a  field  of 
wheat  and  another  of  barley.  After  crossing  the  fields  they 
forded  an  irrigating  canal  and  then  plunged  through  a  wooded 
marsh.  Once  through  this  last  they  were  within  the  camping 
place  discovered  by  Heber.  It  was  a  field  of  waving  grass  con- 
taining upwards  of  an  hundred  acres.  It  was  completely  hid- 


ON  THE  MARCH  227 

den  by  the  surrounding  belt  of  woods  and  it  was  moreover 
capable  of  being  stoutly  defended  in  case  of  attack. 

Once  inside  the  men  dismounted  and  preparations  for  the 
night  were  begun.  The  generosity  of  King  Cyrus  had  sup- 
plied them  with  a  few  tents  but  by  no  means  enough  to  shelter 
the  entire  command.  Many  of  the  troopers  therefore  con- 
structed rude  booths  of  tree  boughs  interwoven  with  smaller 
branches.  While  these  preparations  were  going  forward  Heber 
and  Iddin  set  out  on  foot  to  completely  explore  the  vicinity. 
Their  chief  object  was  the  discovery  of  some  distinguishing 
landmark  that  might  serve  to  guide  recruits  to  the  camp.  In 
half  an  hour  they  returned  and  reported  the  finding  of  a  ruined 
tomb  upon  the  side  of  the  camp  toward  Babylon.  The  tomb 
was  situated  beside  the  highway  (the  Sippara  road)  from  which 
the  camp  was  easy  of  access  to  those  aware  of  its  existence.  The 
ruined  tomb  was  a  guidepost  that  none  could  mistake. 

After  the  evening  meal  had  been  prepared  and  disposed  of, 
the  prince  had  the  men  assemble  in  the  center  of  the  camp 
that  he  might  address  them. 

"Soldiers  of  Babylon,"  he  began,  "a  noble  enemy  has  granted 
thee  thy  liberty  that  thou  might  take  part  in  an  enterprise  which, 
while  fraught  with  danger,  is  yet  one  of  honor." 

He  then  briefly  sketched  to  them  the  events  connected  with 
the  murder  of  King  Evil-Merodach  and  the  rescue  of  his  child, 
ending  with  these  words:  "Fellow  soldiers,  this  babe  is  still 
alive  and  is  now  grown  to  manhood's  state.  He  it  is  who  is 
the  lawful  king  of  Babylon.  He  is  about  to  claim  his  throne 
and  to  thee  is  extended  the  invitation  to  assist  him  in  that 
attempt.  Ye  all  knew  Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard. 
Recognize  in  him  at  once  the  speaker  and  Sheshbazzar  thy 
lawful  king." 

A  loud  outburst  followed  his  speech.  The  prince  hastened 
to  secure  silence  for  fear  the  noise  would  be  audible  to  any 
who  might  be  passing  along  the  road. 

"Men,"  he  said  when  quiet  was  restored,  "can  I  depend  upon 


228  RHESA 

thee?  Wilt  thou  follow  me  to  the  gates  of  Babylon?  Wilt 
thou  place  me  upon  the  throne  of  my  father?" 

Cries  of  "We  will";  "Count  on  us";  "Long  live  Shesh- 
bazzar,  our  king,"  answered  him. 

"On  the  morrow  we  will  organize  into  companies  and 
choose  officers.  If  there  are  any  here  who  have  commanded 
companies  they  will  remain  and  speak  with  me.  All  others 
may  now  seek  their  quarters." 

Three  men  remained  in  accordance  with  his  invitation,  while 
the  remainder  sought  their  various  tents  and  booths.  The  three 
gave  their  names  as  Belmurda,  Nebogurza  and  Shemakin.  The 
first  two  were  erect,  soldierly  looking  fellows  and  commanded 
their  leader's  good  will  at  once.  The  third  was  a  short  and 
powerfully  built  man  with  an  ugly  countenance,  but  he  gave  a 
straight  account  of  himself.  All  three  had  commanded  com- 
panies in  the  royal  army  and  had  likewise  commanded  garrisons 
upon  the  northern  frontier.  They  had  surrendered  to  Cyrus 
after  putting  up  as  stout  a  resistance  as  their  numbers  allowed. 

Lots  were  drawn  to  see  which  of  these  men  should  be  in 
command  of  the  camp  during  the  night.  Chance  decided  upon 
Shemakin  and  the  others  were  sent  to  their  tents.  The  prince 
instructed  Shemakin  to  select  twenty  men  as  sentries,  he  to 
take  command  of  them  and  remain  awake  to  see  that  all  went 
well. 

These  arrangements  completed,  Sheshbazzar  sought  his  tent, 
his  two  friends  having  preceded  him  there. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

VOICES  IN   THE  WOODS 

The  night  was  nearly  spent  and  the  first  light  of  dawn  was 
stealing  through  the  trees  when  Sheshbazzar  suddenly  awoke. 
He  was  usually  a  sound  sleeper  and  this  sudden  awakening 
startled  him.  He  sat  up  and  listened,  sure  that  some  noise 


VOICES  IN  THE  WOODS  229 

had  aroused  him.  All  was  still,  only  the  slight  rustle  of  the 
leaves  on  the  trees  surrounding  the  camp  disturbing  the  quiet 
of  the  night.  He  was  unconvinced  however;  he  was  sure 
there  was  some  cause  for  his  sudden  awakening.  After  listen- 
ing for  several  moments  he  decided  to  make  a  tour  of  the  camp. 

He  arose  noiselessly  and  wrapped  a  long  cloak  about  him. 
At  the  tent  door  he  stopped  to  listen  again.  All  was  quiet, 
save  for  the  rustling  of  the  wind  through  the  trees  and  the 
tramp  of  the  nearest  sentry,  who  was  stationed  but  a  few  feet 
from  the  prince's  tent.  Sheshbazzar  hurried  past  him ;  the  man 
recognizing  him  said  nothing.  Upon  reaching  the  outskirts 
of  the  camp  the  prince  again  stopped  to  listen,  but  heard  nothing. 
He  was  still  sure  that  some  disturbance  had  awakened  him  and 
continued  his  walk,  stopping  only  to  question  the  next  sentry 
he  met. 

"Hast  thou  heard  any  disturbance?"  he  asked. 

"Not  a  sound,  sir,"  replied  the  man. 

He  continued  his  tour  of  inspection  until  he  reached  his 
starting  point.  He  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  anything  to 
indicate  a  cause  for  his  awakening,  but  he  was  still  uncon- 
vinced. Determined  to  be  fully  satisfied  that  nothing  was 
wrong  before  he  again  retired  to  his  tent,  he  began  a  second 
tour.  This  time  he  chose  a  route  completely  within  the  belt 
of  woods.  Inadvertently  as  he  progressed  his  steps  led  him 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  woods.  He  could  still  catch  glimpses 
of  the  camp  through  the  openings  between  the  trees  and  he 
realized  he  was  straying  farther  away,  but  he  made  no  move 
to  change  his  course.  An  irresistible  attraction  was  drawing 
him  onward. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  and  listened.  Then  he  took  several 
cautious  steps  forward  and  again  stopped  to  listen.  He  dropped 
upon  his  knees  and  crept  slowly  forward,  after  the  manner  of 
an  Arab  searching  in  the  sand  for  the  footprints  of  his  quarry. 
For  nearly  thirty  feet  he  thus  crept  along,  ending  his  uncom- 
fortable journey  at  a  small  grassy  knoll  beside  a  clump  of 
small  trees  whose  branches  were  so  interwoven  as  to  make  of 


230  RHESA 

the  clump  a  natural  screen.  Lying  prone  upon  his  stomach  the 
commander  listened  attentively  to  two  voices  engaged  in  con- 
versation upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  leafy  barrier. 

"Tell  me  I  say  what  object  thou  hast  in  view,"  said  a  voice. 
"That  is  my  own  affair,"  replied  the  other. 
Desirous  of  beholding  the  speakers,  Sheshbazzar  pushed  aside 
the  boughs  in  front  of  him  so  quietly  that  the  speakers  heard 
no  sound  to  warn  them  of  his  presence.  Wriggling  himself  as 
far  into  the  clump  as  he  could  penetrate,  he  as  last  contrived  to 
open  a  way  large  enough  for  him  to  peer  through.  Upon  the 
opposite  side  of  the  barrier  was  a  slight  elevation,  carpeted  with 
a  velvety  rug  of  grass  and  surrounded  by  trees  and  shrubs. 
Upon  the  summit  of  this  elevation  two  men  sat  side  by  side. 
Notwithstanding  the  dim  light  the  observer  was  able  to  recog- 
nize them  clearly.  They  were  Iddin  and  Shemakin.  A  feel- 
ing of  distrust  for  the  former  again  found  lodgment  in  the 
prince's  mind  despite  the  devotion  he  had  thus  far  shown.  The 
prince  decided  to  remain  in  his  present  position  and  hear  what 
was  said  by  this  ill  assorted  pair. 

"Tell  me  plainly,"  said  the  first  voice,  which  he  recognized 
as  Iddin's,  "what  line  art  thou  to  follow  while  here?" 

"I  tell  thee,  sir,"  replied  the  other,  "that  whatever  I  do 
or  do  not  do,  not  one  man  shall  hear  from  my  lips  of  my  in- 
tentions." 

"Be  careful,  Shemakin.  Remember  how  much  of  thy  past 
is  known  to  me." 

"Threaten  me  not,"  exclaimed  the  other.  "Whatever  I  may 
have  been  concerned  with  in  the  past,  others  higher  in  rank 
than  I  have  been  more  guilty.  When  I  go  down  others  go 
with  me." 

"I  threatened  thee  not,"  said  Iddin. 

"It  seemed  like  a  threat,"  answered  Shemakin. 

"Nay,  I  meant  it  not  so,  but  I  insist  on  knowing  what  part 
thou  wilt  take  in  this  present  undertaking.  Shalt  thou  fight 
for  yonder  pretender  or  shalt  thou  take  the  part  of  another?" 

"That  sir,  no  man  shall  know." 


VOICES  IN  THE  WOODS  231 

"I  will  know,  Shemakin,  ere  we  leave  this  spot.  Unfold  to 
me  whatever  plan  thou  mayest  have.  Mayhap  we  can  work 
together.  Remember,  though  I  am  in  the  prince's  confidence, 
yet  I  am  still  the  rab  mag's  son." 

The  man  seemed  mollified  for  when  he  spoke  again  it  was  in 
a  less  sullen  tone. 

"Thou  knowest  sir,"  he  said,  "I  did  not  choose  this  com- 
pany of  mine  own  will.  The  king  must  have  heard  of  my 
relations  with  thy  father  else  he  had  not  sent  me  so  far 
from  Babylon.  I  had  scarcely  reached  my  post  when  I  was 
captured  by  the  Persians.  I  welcomed  this  chance  of  gaining 
my  freedom.  Thus  I  am  here  and  if  I  see  it  to  my  advantage 
to  remain  I  shall  be  a  true  follower  of  the  prince.  If  on  the 
other  hand  thy  noble  father  would  make  it  worth  my  trouble, 
how  easily  I  could  slip  out  of  camp  some  night  and  let  him 
know  of  the  prince's  whereabouts.  Methinks  Vulmaran  would 
be  glad  to  get  such  news." 

"Such  a  step  might  be  easy  but  thinkest  thou  my  father 
could  reward  thee  sufficiently  ?" 

"He  has  always  paid  well  before." 

"True,  but  let  me  tell  thee,  Vulmaran  has  neither  the  money 
nor  the  power  he  once  had." 

"Then  let  me  know  what  I  can  get  for  following  this  prince. 
Thy  father  has  always  been  good  to  those  who  served  his  pur- 
poses and  I  will  not  change  horses  without  gaining  thereby." 

"Not  a  promise  wilt  thou  get  from  the  prince.  I  sometimes 
think  I  will  get  little  for  mine  own  allegiance." 

"Art  thou  then  a  true  follower  of  this  man?"  inquired 
Shemakin,  surprised. 

"I  really  do  not  know  myself,"  replied  Iddin,  "were  I  not 
my  father's  son  I  could  follow  him  to  death,  such  is  the  magic 
of  his  cause,  but  I  ofttimes  feel  myself  the  most  contemptible 
of  traitors  to  thus  support  the  man  whose  escape  from  prison 
will  undoubtedly  cause  my  father's  death.  Whatever  my 
father's  faults,  and  I  have  disapproved  of  many  of  his  actions 
as  he  well  knows,  he  is  still  my  father  and  has  been  to  me  the 


232  RHESA 

kindest  parent  boy  ever  had.  Ah,  Shemakin,  people  little  know 
the  private  life  of  public  men.  Execrated  as  they  may  be  for 
their  political  deeds,  at  home  they  are  often  the  best  of  men. 
However,  much  as  a  man  owes  his  allegiance  to  his  father,  his 
country  must  come  first  and  I  believe  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart  that  unless  the  present  dynasty  is  overthrown,  Babylon 
is  doomed.  When  therefore  I  joined  myself  to  this  man  it  was 
with  the  hope  that  he  would  triumph  and  with  him  on  the 
throne  we  could  face  the  world." 

The  old  saying  that  eavesdroppers  ne'er  hear  good  of  them- 
selves was  certainly  discredited  in  the  present  case.  Shesh- 
bazzar  swore  never  to  distrust  Iddin  again  after  hearing  these 
words,  but  in  another  moment  his  doubts  became  stronger  than 
ever  before. 

"However,  Shemakin,"  continued  Iddin,  "a  man  who  betrays 
his  own  father  is  detestable  and  I  am  sorely  tempted  sometimes 
to  be  the  means  of  capturing  this  prince,  thereby  saving  my 
father's  life.  One  word  only  would  be  needed.  Merely  men- 
tion the  location  of  this  camp  and  an  army  would  be  sent 
against  it.  The  king  would  honor  the  man  by  whom  the 
information  came,  for  I  have  heard  say  that  Nabonidos  sleeps 
not  of  nights  for  fear  of  Sheshbazzar." 

"Ah  sir,"  said  the  other  eagerly,  "were  I  but  in  thy  place  I 
would  not  allow  another  day  to  pass  without  giving  that  in- 
formation. This  prince  is  good  and  noble,  and  I  would  like 
well  enough  to  see  him  king.  Still  one's  self  comes  first  and  to 
advance  myself  I  would  sacrifice  him.  Say  thou  the  word  and 
I  will  carry  a  message  from  thee  to  the  king  and  I  will  share  in, 
thy  advancement." 

"Wait;  we  will  see,"  answered  Iddin. 

There  was  a  crash  of  breaking  branches  and  Sheshbazzar 
stood  facing  his  two  subordinates. 

"Ay,  we  will  see,"  he  cried.  "Who  will  betray  me  in  that 
manner?  The  first  who  moves  dies  on  the  instant." 

He  placed  his  hand  upon  his  sword   (which  he  had  put  on 


VOICES  IN  THE  WOODS  233 

before  leaving  his  tent)  and  faced  them  resolutely.  Both  men 
cowered  before  him. 

"Iddin,"  he  cried  turning  to  the  young  man,  "I  have  sus- 
pected thee  from  the  first,  but  this  exceeds  my  worst  expecta- 
tions. Hadst  thou  never  pretended  friendship  for  me  and  the 
cause  I  represent,  I  would  honor  thee  for  seeking  to  save  thy 
father  by  sacrificing  me;  but  to  do  so  in  the  treacherous  manner 
thou  hast  mentioned  should  be  beneath  even  thy  father's  son." 

"Sir!"  cried  Iddin,  springing  to  his  feet  in  sudden  anger,  "I 
am  unarmed  and  cannot  resent  this  insult  as  a  man  should,  and 
even  were  I  armed  I  am  no  match  for  thee  but  had  I  a  sword 
one  of  us  would  die  here  and  now.  Suspect  me  indeed !  What 
right  or  cause  hast  thou  to  suspect  me?  Wherein  have  I  been 
treacherous  to  thee  ?  Thinkest  thou  if  I  had  wished  to  betray 
thee  I  would  have  ridden  to  secure  aid  to  rescue  thee  from  thy 
captors?  How  much  easier  would  it  have  been  for  me  to  have 
left  thee  in  their  hands?  Why  should  I  wait  until  thou  hadst 
six  hundred  men  to  fight  for  thee?  Ah  no,  if  I  had  planned 
to  betray  thee  thou  wouldst  at  this  moment  be  lying  in  thy 
dungeon." 

Angry  though  he  was  Sheshbazzar  could  but  see  the  logic  in 
Iddin's  reasoning  for  certainly  there  could  be  no  object  in 
obtaining  the  prince's  rescue  and  then  betraying  him.  He  stood 
silent  a  moment  regarding  the  rab  mag's  son.  His  anger  re- 
lented but  still  the  words  "we  will  see"  lingered  in  his  mind. 

"Forgive  me  Iddin  for  being  so  hasty,"  he  said  after  a 
moment,  "but  look  at  the  circumstances  of  this  night.  I  was 
awakened  by  I  knew  not  what,  though  now  I  imagine  it  was  by 
thy  leaving  the  tent,  and  arose  to  see  if  aught  was  wrong  in 
my  camp.  Accidently  I  stumble  upon  two  of  my  officers  talk- 
ing together  in  the  woods  and  I  hear  words  of  treason  spoken. 
I  hear  a  plan  suggested  and  he  whom  I  have  trusted  says  'we 
will  see'  to  it.  Who  would  not  suspect  the  man  who  thus 
agreed  to  a  scheme  of  betrayal?" 

"We  may  talk  freely  now,"  said  Iddin  quietly  but  tensely. 
"Shemakin  has  gone." 


234  RHESA 

Sure  enough,  during  the  angry  talk  of  these  two  men,  in- 
tended by  nature  to  be  friends,  the  snake  had  glided  away 
through  the  grass  unseen. 

"Now  sir,"  continued  Iddin,  "thou  hast  this  morning  done 
more  injury  to  thy  cause  than  thy  worst  enemy  could  do.  This 
man  Shemakin  I  recognized  as  one  of  my  father's  most  trusted 
tools  and  I  set  myself  the  task  of  watching  him.  It  was  my 
intention  to  take  Heber  into  my  confidence  and  we  two  would 
have  taken  turns  watching  him  by  day  and  night.  I  followed 
him  out  here  this  morning  and,  as  thou  has  no  doubt  heard, 
attempted  to  draw  him  out.  It  was  to  keep  him  in  my  power 
that  I  acquiesced  in  a  plan  to  betray  thee.  Now  thou  hast  given 
him  his  opportunity.  While  we  were  upbraiding  one  another 
he  has  gone  and  I  doubt  not  will  go  directly  to  my  father." 

"We  must  capture  him.  We  will  return  to  camp  at  once 
and  order  out  the  men  in  pursuit,"  said  the  prince. 

"Yea,  we  will  try,  but  I  fear  me  he  will  not  be  caught.  He 
is  the  most  slippery  villain  I  know  of,  so  much  so  that  my 
father  actually  feared  him." 

"Then  Iddin,  we  must  be  prepared  to  meet  whatever  force 
can  be  sent  against  us,"  said  the  prince. 

"Yea,  and  believe  me,  it  will  be  no  small  force.  Rather  than 
have  thee  escape  him  Nabonidos  will  send  his  whole  army." 

"We  shall  prepare  then  to  meet  the  whole  army,"  said  the 
prince  quietly. 

"If  I  am  defeated,"  he  added,  "I  must  blame  myself.  Let 
us  now  return  to  camp  and  see  what  can  be  done  toward  catch- 
ing this  fellow.  Come,  we  will  go,  and  Iddin,"  he  turned  to 
the  young  man  and  held  out  his  hand,  "let  us  be  friends." 

"Friends!"  cried  Iddin,  "Yea,  till  death  itself  parts  us.  Oh, 
suspect  me  not.  I  swear  by  all  I  hold  dear  I  am  truly  thy  fol- 
lower. Welcome  the  day  when  an  opportunity  comes  for  me 
to  prove  my  devotion." 

Ah  Iddin,  thy  chance  is  coming! 


PRIEST  AND  BANKER  235 

CHAPTER  XXX 

PRIEST   AND    BANKER 

The  rebellion  of  Sheshbazzar  had  now  reached  a  point  from 
which  there  could  be  no  withdrawing.  The  prince  was  in  camp 
at  the  head  of  six  hundred  well-armed  men,  preparing  for  a 
contest  with  the  forces  of  Babylon.  His  six  hundred,  however, 
even  after  receiving  the  training  he  would  give  them  during 
the  next  few  days,  were  but  a  handful  compared  with  the  hosts 
Nabonidos  could  send  against  him.  It  was  therefore  imperative 
to  multiply  his  force  many  times  over  and  that  at  once.  Ac- 
cordingly the  plan  agreed  upon  was  arranged  for  without  delay. 
Immediately  after  the  morning  meal  the  three  leaders  engaged 
in  a  conference  to  which  Belmurda  and  Nebogurza  were  after- 
ward admitted.  The  departure  of  Shemakin  and  the  probabil- 
ity of  his  giving  information  concerning  them  made  haste 
necessary.  Sheshbazzar,  from  his  perfect  knowledge  of  the 
king's  habits,  argued  that  it  would  be  at  least  ten  days  before 
troops  would  be  sent  against  him. 

"I  must  disagree  with  thine  opinion,"  said  Iddin,  "my  father 
will  urge  the  king  to  prompt  action.  I  would  place  the  date 
for  an  encounter  not  more  than  five  days  distant." 

The  brow  of  the  prince  darkened.  He  was  sad  and  gloomy 
this  morning.  The  future  seemed  forbidding.  He  beheld 
clearly  the  almost  insurmountable  difficulties  ahead.  It  seemed 
already  as  if  his  cause  was  lost.  For  fear  of  disheartening  his 
associates,  however,  he  quickly  conquered  all  appearance  of 
despair  and  entered  into  the  discussion  with  the  air  of  a  man 
confident  of  success.  As  a  result  of  the  conference  it  was  de- 
cided that  Iddin  and  Heber  should  leave  at  once  for  Babylon 
to  begin  their  recruiting.  On  the  way  they  were  to  make  dili- 
gent search  for  Shemakin  and  if  captured  it  was  deemed  best 
for  them  to  bring  him  back  to  camp. 

Shortly  before  ten  o'clock  the  two  recruiting  officers  bade 


236  RHESA 

farewell  to  their  leader  and  associates  and  turned  their  horses 
toward  Babylon. 

"In  three  days  thou  wilt  see  yonder  road  covered  with  bodies 
of  men  marching  to  join  thee,"  cried  Iddin  gaily. 

"If  Shemakin  does  not  bring  an  army  down  upon  us  first," 
said  the  prince. 

"Never  fear.  We  will  have  him  back  before  night,"  an- 
swered Iddin. 

After  saying  a  last  farewell  Heber  and  Iddin  rode  out 
through  the  narrow  passage  the  soldiers  had  chopped  through 
the  woods.  Although  many  small  bands  had  scoured  the  sur- 
rounding woods  and  fields  since  daybreak  no  sign  of  the  fugitive 
had  been  discovered.  All  had  returned  without  the  least  clue 
and  it  now  devolved  upon  the  two  horsemen  to  overtake  him. 
They  went  fully  armed,  knowing  he  would  not  be  easily  taken. 
It  was  deemed  likely  he  would  head  straight  for  the  city  rather 
than  skulk  in  the  vicinity  of  the  camp.  Their  surmise  correct, 
they  were  confident  of  finding  him,  as  a  short  distance  south  of 
the  camp  the  monotonous  flatness  of  the  lower  Mesopotamian 
plain  began.  The  belt  of  woods  surrounding  Sheshbazzar's 
camp  was  the  last  bit  of  forest  of  any  pretensions  to  be  met 
with  in  journeying  toward  Babylon  from  the  north. 

Once  upon  the  broad  highway  they  urged  their  horses  into 
as  fast  a  gait  as  was  consistent  with  the  distance  to  be  traversed. 
They  were  between  forty  and  fifty  miles  from  the  city  and  they 
were  determined  upon  reaching  their  destination  before  night- 
fall. Therefore  if  the  search  for  Shemakin  delayed  them  ever 
so  little  they  must  push  forward  at  top  speed  in  order  to  reach 
the  city  before  the  gates  were  closed.  For  two  hours  they 
galloped  steadily  on.  The  nature  of  the  country  traversed  by 
them  was  such  that  they  made  little  search  for  the  missing  man. 
On  either  side  of  the  great  road  lay  broad,  far-stretching,  flat 
plains  affording  no  hiding  place  for  the  fugitive. 

Toward  noon  they  halted  upon  the  bank  of  an  irrigating 
canal  and  ate  the  simple  lunch  they  had  brought  with  them. 
As  soon  as  the  last  mouthful  had  been  eaten  they  remounted 


PRIEST  AND  BANKER  237 

and  plunged  through  the  canal  on  their  journey.  The  horses 
they  rode  were  strong  solid  beasts,  too  heavy  for  great  speed 
hut  capable  of  great  exertion  and  their  riders  pushed  them  to 
the  limit  of  their  endurance. 

Ten  miles  from  their  lunching  place  they  paused  at  the  first 
dwelling  they  had  thus  far  encountered,  to  inquire  if  a  man  of 
Shemakin's  description  had  passed  that  way.  The  owner  of  the 
farm  informed  them  such  a  man  had  stopped  there,  procured 
his  dinner  and  purchased  the  farmer's  colt,  paying  such  a  price 
for  the  beast  that  the  old  man  chuckled  as  he  told  of  it.  The 
two  men  looked  at  each  other  in  dismay. 

"How  long  since  he  left?"  Heber  found  the  breath  to  ask. 

"Two  hours,"  was  the  reply. 

"Is  thy  colt  fast?" 

"Fast,"  cried  the  farmer,  "the  king  himself  has  no  horse  to 
catch  him." 

After  thanking  the  old  man  for  his  information  they  walked 
back  to  where  their  horses  were  browsing  beside  the  road.  They 
mounted  immediately  and  again  pushed  forward  at  top  speed, 
but  theirs  was  a  listless  pursuit.  Shemakin,  mounted  upon  a 
fast  colt  with  two  hours  start  of  them,  would  reach  Babylon  in 
safety  and  once  he  was  within  the  city  walls  they  could  do  him 
no  harm. 

Five  miles  farther  on  they  met  a  column  of  soldiers,  number- 
ing fully  a  thousand  spearmen  and  half  as  many  bowmen.  Their 
commander  was  known  to  Iddin,  who  at  once  questioned  him. 
Yes,  they  had  seen  Shemakin  a  long  way  back.  He  should  be 
nearly  to  the  city  by  this  time.  Where  were  the  troops  going? 
To  Sippara,  whither  troops  were  now  hurrying.  Forty  thou- 
sand were  already  there  and  from  now  on  the  great  highway 
would  be  filled  with  marching  columns.  Nabonidos  was  moving 
at  last! 

"Thou  didst  not  ask  him  to  join  us,"  said  Heber,  when  they 
were  again  in  motion. 

"No,  Heber,  it  would  have  been  useless.     Besides  every  man 


238  RHESA 

that  reaches  Sippara  is  one  less  who  can  be  sent  against  the 
prince." 

"If  all  the  troops  go  forward,  we  can  enter  the  city  without 
opposition,"  mused  the  Jew. 

"Ah,  Heber,"  said  Iddin,  "I  am  in  this  cause  for  life  and 
death  but  I  fear  we  cannot  succeed.  If  the  Persians  had  only 
waited  one  more  year!  However  God  knows  best." 

The  Jew  turned  quickly  at  his  companion's  last  sentence  and 
would  have  spoken  had  not  Iddin  forestalled  him. 

"Be  not  surprised,  Heber.  I  worship  thy  God,"  he  said  and 
then  relapsed  into  a  moody  silence  which  Heber  had  the  cour- 
tesy not  to  interrupt. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  their  tired  horses  walked  across  the 
drawbridge  and  through  the  great  gates  into  the  Golden  City. 
Shemakin  had  preceded  them  by  more  than  the  two  hours  he 
had  originally  led  them.  Their  first  care  when  within  the  city 
was  to  seek  out  an  abiding  place.  Neither  young  man  thought 
it  best  to  visit  his  own  home.  The  same  refuge  suggested  itself 
to  both,  the  priesthood.  Under  the  sheltering  wing  of  the  tem- 
ple they  felt  they  would  be  safe.  Accordingly  they  turned  their 
horses'  heads  toward  the  temple.  By  this  decision  they  spared 
themselves  the  danger  of  passing  through  the  city.  The  temple 
and  the  city  of  the  priests  lay  to  the  north  of  the  Shebil  Canal. 
The  entire  tract  between  the  canal  and  the  inner  wall  was  the 
property  of  the  temple  and  the  crops  raised  thereon  went  to 
the  support  of  the  priesthood. 

A  half  hour's  ride  brought  them  to  the  residence  of  Ne- 
boakhu.  The  old  priest  himself  came  to  meet  them,  welcoming 
them  cordially  and  bidding  them  enter.  When  informed  of  the 
object  of  their  errand  and  of  their  desire  to  make  his  home 
their  headquarters  he  immediately  acquiesced.  Leaving  their 
jaded  beasts  to  the  care  of  the  servants  they  followed  the  old 
man  into  the  dwelling. 

"How  goes  it  with  the  young  prince?"  he  asked  tenderly. 

Iddin  gave  him  all  the  information  he  possessed. 


PRIEST  AND  BANKER  239 

"He  is  at  last  under  arms  and  prepared  to  strike?  May  the 
gods  grant  him  success,"  said  the  old  man  solemnly. 

"And  we  are  here  to  enlist  men,"  continued  Iddin. 

"Methinks  the  men  will  be  plenty.  There  is  a  great  spirit 
of  dissatisfaction  underlying  the  minds  of  all  men.  Thou 
wilt  obtain  thy  recruits  but  great  caution  must  be  exercised. 
Enlist  the  regular  soldiery  if  possible.  They  could  start  osten- 
sibly for  Sippara  and  when  near  the  prince's  camp,  leave  the 
road  and  join  our  forces.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  take  the 
common  soldiers  into  thy  confidence.  Enlist  the  officers  and  the 
men  will  follow  them." 

"That  is  our  plan,"  said  Iddin. 

He  then  told  the  priest  of  Shemakin.  The  news  was  re- 
ceived with  consternation. 

"Should  he  prove  traitor  all  is  lost,"  he  said.  "The  king  will 
attack  before  we  can  add  to  the  forces  under  the  prince's  com- 
mand. This  man  must  be  found  and  his  loyalty  purchased." 

"Ay,"  replied  Iddin,  "gold  will  make  him  our  best  friend, 
but  where  is  the  gold?  With  that  at  our  disposal  we  could 
buy  the  king's  whole  army." 

"And  the  king  himself,"  added  the  priest  laughing.  "As  for 
the  gold,  it  shall  be  forthcoming.  Get  thou  the  men  and  I  will 
find  the  funds  to  pay  them." 

They  passed  into  the  dining  room  and  were  served  with  a 
hearty  meal.  Long  they  lingered  over  the  wine  that  night  and 
the  hour  was  late  when  at  last  they  sought  their  couches.  Iddin 
felt  himself  honored  when  he  stretched  his  limbs  upon  the 
couch  long  used  by  the  man  he  hoped  soon  would  be  king  of 
Babylon. 

Immediately  after  the  early  morning  service  in  the  temple, 
the  three  men  set  out  upon  their  errands,  the  two  younger  to 
begin  their  recruiting,  and  the  elder  to  arrange  for  the  finances. 
Iddin  and  Heber  were  mounted  while  Neboakhu  rode  in  the 
chariot  once  used  by  Nabomuran,  Captain  of  the  Guard. 
Shortly  after  crossing  the  canal  they  separated,  the  young  men 
turning  off  to  the  left  in  order  to  avoid  the  more  populous 


240  RHESA 

streets  and  the  chief  priest  keeping  straight  on  toward  the  cen- 
ter of  the  city.  At  the  market  place  his  chariot  turned  to  the 
left  and  passed  down  one  block,  drawing  up  before  a  substan- 
tial edifice,  apparently  a  place  of  business.  Upon  the  stone 
lintel  over  the  wide  doorway  these  words  were  cut : 


EGIBI  AND  SONS 

It  was  therefore  to  the  foremost  bankers  of  the  ancient  world 
that  the  old  man  made  his  morning  visit.  A  servant  met  him 
at  the  doorway  and  conducted  him  through  the  counting  room, 
where  a  dozen  clerks  were  at  work  recording  the  affairs  of  the 
house  upon  blocks  of  clay,  into  a  handsomely  appointed  waiting 
room.  His  inquiry  for  the  head  of  the  firm  elicited  the  infor- 
mation that  he  was  at  the  moment  engaged  with  two  distin- 
guished clients. 

"I  will  wait,"  said  the  old  man. 

His  period  of  waiting  was  by  no  means  a  short  one  but  he 
sat  patiently.  At  length  the  door  of  an  inner  room  opened 
and  a  clerk  showed  two  men  out.  They  were  Vulmaran,  the 
rab  mag,  and  Ninabeth,  the  treasurer.  So  the  king  was  bor- 
rowing ! 

The  clerk  who  had  showed  them  out,  beckoned  to  Neboakhu 
to  enter.  The  chief  priest  followed  him  into  the  room  and  in 
another  moment  stood  face  to  face  with  the  power  behind  the 
throne,  the  man  who  controlled  the  king's  finances. 

"Is  it  indeed  Neboakhu  who  visits  me?"  asked  the  great 
banker,  rising  to  greet  his  guest. 

"It  is  I,  friend  Egibi,"  replied  the  priest,  smiling. 

"It  is  many  a  day  since  we  have  met,  yet  once  we  were  good 
friends.  However  thou  hast  thy  duties  as  well  as  I  mine,"  con- 
tinued the  banker. 

They  conversed  upon  unimportant  matters  for  a  few  mo- 
ments as  old  friends  will  when  they  meet,  but  the  banker's  time 


PRIEST  AND  BANKER  241 

was  of  value  and  he  soon  inquired  the  cause  of  Neboakhu's 
visit. 

"I  am  come  for  the  same  purpose  that  brings  all  thy  patrons 
here.  I  am  come  to  borrow." 

"Have  the  revenues  of  the  temple  also  failed?" 

"Nay,  I  wish  to  borrow  for  another  cause." 

The  banker  waited  for  him  to  continue. 

"I  can  trust  thee  not  to  reveal  the  cause  I  represent?"  in- 
quired the  priest  before  proceeding. 

"For  shame,  Neboakhu.  Thou  knowest  our  house  and  know- 
est  that  not  since  our  fathers  started  this  business  have  we  ever 
revealed  the  affairs  of  a  client,"  said  Egibi  with  the  least  show 
of  resentment. 

"I  know,  I  know,  but  this  present  affair  is  of  so  delicate  a 
nature  that  I  must  have  thy  special  assurance,"  persisted  the 
priest. 

"Thou  hast  it." 

"Know  then,  friend  Egibi,  I  want  funds  to  make  a  king." 

"To  make  a  king?" 

"Ah,  to  seat  our  lawful  king  upon  his  father's  throne." 

"Sheshbazzar  is  at  last  found?" 

"He  is.     My  son  Nabomuran  is  the  prince." 

"Is  it  possible?  A  fine  youth  he  is  too.  How  much  will  it 
require  to  make  him  king?" 

"Five  hundred  talents  of  gold,"  was  the  reply. 

"Five  hundred  talents!"  shouted  the  banker,  leaping  from 
his  chair. 

"That  is  the  amount  needed.  We  must  be  certain.  With 
that  sum  we  can  win,"  answered  the  priest. 

"By  the  gods,  Neboakhu,  thinkest  thou  such  a  sum  can  be 
had  for  the  asking?" 

"I  have  security." 

"What  is  thy  security?" 

"The  treasures  of  the  temple,"  was  the  reply  made  in  a  per- 
fectly matter-of-fact  tone.  The  banker  started. 

"They  are  the  property  of  the  gods,"  he  said. 


242  RHESA 

"There  are  no  gods,"  answered  Neboakhu. 

"Ha!  At  last  we  agree  upon  that  point.  It  was  long  a 
subject  of  discussion  between  us." 

"We  are  not  quite  agreed,"  said  the  priest.  "I  am  slowly 
inclining  to  a  new  belief.  I  more  than  half  believe  there  is 
one  God  and  only  one." 

And  that  is?" 

"The  God  of  the  Jews." 

There  was  silence.  Here  was  a  polytheist,  a  heathen  if  you 
will,  teaching  a  man  whose  forefathers  were  Jews,  which  was 
the  true  God.  Egibi  was  silent  and  sad.  When  at  last  he 
spoke  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"Ah,  Neboakhu,  I  sometimes  think  that  is  true,"  he  said 
solemnly. 

A  moment  later  he  was  again  the  stern  man  of  business. 

"I  cannot  grant  thy  request,"  he  said.  "For  the  first  time  in 
my  career  I  am  about  to  reveal  the  affairs  of  a  client.  I  do  so 
knowing  thou  wilt  hold  my  confidence  inviolate.  I  have  just 
refused  the  king  a  loan  upon  the  same  security." 

"The  king  has  no  right  to  offer  it,"  said  the  priest  sharply. 

"Possibly  not,"  replied  the  banker,  "but  it  was  not  on  that 
account  I  refused  the  loan.  The  case  is  this:  The  Persians  are 
about  to  capture  Babylon  and  will  seize  all  the  treasures  in  the 
city.  Where  then  would  be  my  security?" 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  their  success  as  thou  seemest,"  said  the 
priest. 

"I  am  sure,"  said  the  banker.  "Drop  this  king  making,  Ne- 
boakhu. It  is  dangerous  business,  especially  for  men  of  our 
age." 

"Not  I,"  replied  the  priest  majestically.  "I  shall  fight  my- 
self, if  need  be,  to  place  our  rightful  king  upon  the  throne. 
Can  we  but  seat  him  before  the  Persians  come  we  need  not  fear 
them." 

"Possibly,  but  I  must  refuse  to  make  the  loan.  I  regret  the 
necessity.  For  old  friendship's  sake  I  would  be  glad  to  grant 


THE  HANGING  GARDENS  243 

it,  but  to  do  so  in  the  face  of  the  present  uncertainty  would  be 
unwise." 

"I  have  a  last  resort,"  said  the  priest. 

"What  is  that?" 

"Use  the  security  itself." 

"That  is  a  matter  for  thee  to  settle  with  thyself,"  said  the 
banker. 

The  priest  arose  to  depart  and  the  banker  arose  to  bid  him 
farewell. 

"The  man  of  business  refused  thy  request,  Neboakhu,  but 
the  private  man  hopes  for  thy  success,"  said  the  Jew  smiling. 

"Many  thanks  for  thy  good  wishes,  Egibi,"  said  the  priest, 
adding:  "I  bear  thee  no  ill  will  for  thy  refusal." 

"Were  it  not  for  the  black  clouds  in  the  north,  my  friend, 
every  shekel  in  our  coffers  would  be  at  thy  disposal,"  the  banker 
said  in  parting. 

The  priest  departed,  leaving  the  man  of  finance  to  his  vaults 
and  his  bars  of  gold.  That  evening  the  three  men  compared 
their  experience.  Iddin  announced  the  result  of  his  and  Heber's 
recruiting  as  upwards  of  a  thousand  men,  but  he  added  sorrow- 
fully that  they  had  been  unable  to  find  any  trace  of  Shemakin. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE   HANGING  GARDENS 

The  day  following  Orma's  conversation  with  her  father  con- 
cerning the  lost  prince  of  Judah,  she  was  again  sitting  in  her 
bower  occupied  with  her  embroidery.  Her  thoughts  were  still 
dwelling  upon  her  lover  and  his  fate,  but  she  was  not  as  pre- 
occupied as  on  the  preceding  day. 

It  was  shortly  after  noon,  an  hour  when  all  who  could  do 
so  were  taking  their  midday  nap,  but  the  day  was  a  particularly 
cool  one  for  the  climate  and  the  time  of  year,  making  her  re- 
treat far  from  uncomfortable  even  in  the  heat  of  the  day.  She 


244  RHESA 

had  just  parted  from  her  father  who  followed  the  custom  of 
the  country  as  regarded  a  nap  after  dinner. 

Orma  had  been  seated  in  her  bower  but  a  few  moments  when 
Ruth  came  to  inform  her  a  servant  from  the  palace  desired 
speech  with  her.  This  was  nothing  unusual  as,  since  her  con- 
nection with  her  royal  friends  at  the  palace,  she  had  been  sent 
for  upon  several  occasions.  She  gave  orders  to  have  the  mes- 
senger conducted  to  her  presence  and  Ruth  piloted  him  thither. 
Orma  recognized  him  at  once  as  the  same  man  who  had  brought 
her  similar  messages  upon  previous  occasions.  He  handed  her 
a  silken  bag  containing  a  small  tablet  of  clay  upon  which  a  mes- 
sage was  engraved.  It  was  worded  something  after  this  man- 
ner: 

The  Palace, 
5th  Tammuz. 
To  ORMA,  DAUGHTER  OF  NEHUM: 

May  the  blessings  of  the  gods  rest  upon  thee.  Canst  thou 
meet  me  in  the  gardens  by  the  reservoir  immediately?  I  have 
news  of  importance  to  communicate  unto  thee.  The  bearer  of 
this,  my  message,  will  conduct  thee  thither. 

NITO.CRIS. 

"Art  thou  to  conduct  me  to  the  gardens?"  she  asked  the 
slave. 

"Such  are  my  orders,"  he  answered  quietly. 

"Wait  thou  here  one  moment  and  I  will  be  ready  to  accom- 
pany thee,"  she  said. 

She  ran  into  the  house,  returning  in  a  moment.  During  her 
absence  she  had  added  a  soft  fleecy  wrap  to  her  attire,  and  had 
thrown  a  light  silken  shawl  over  her  head. 

"I  am  ready,"  she  said. 

The  servant  preceded  her  to  the  street.  Orma  stopped  only 
to  leave  Ruth  a  message  for  her  father,  and  then  followed  him. 
Before  the  house  stood  a  simple  chariot,  waiting  to  convey  her 
to  the  Hanging  Gardens.  The  servant  assisted  her  to  enter 
the  vehicle  and  stepped  up  beside  her.  The  driver  had  evi* 


THE  HANGING  GARDENS  245 

dently  received  his  orders,  for  no  words  passed  between  the 
two  men.  As  soon  as  his  passengers  were  in  the  chariot,  he  gave 
his  steeds  the  lash. 

After  a  half  hour's  drive  through  the  nearly  deserted  streets 
the  chariot  drew  up  beside  the  land  entrance  to  the  gardens,  a 
broad  brick  platform  from  which  the  first  flight  of  stone 
steps  led  upwards  to  the  first  of  the  four  terraces.  The  servant 
alighted  at  once  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Orma.  She  barely 
touched  her  finger  tips  to  his  as  she  sprang  out  upon  the  landing. 
The  servant  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  driver,  who  bowed  in 
acknowledgment  and  then  drove  away.  The  servant,  direct- 
ing Orma  to  follow  him,  started  to  mount  the  broad  steps. 
She  followed  him  blindly,  wondering  what  it  all  meant,  but 
trusting  in  the  magic  word  "Nitocris." 

As  they  hurried  along  the  path  leading  from  the  summit  of 
the  first  flight  of  stairs  to  the  base  of  the  second,  Orma  feasted 
upon  the  incomparable  beauty  of  the  scene  about  her.  Every 
known  country  had  given  its  best  and  most  beautiful  to  adorn 
the  fairyland  Nebuchadnezzar  raised  on  high  as  a  plaything 
for  his  Median  queen.  Tall  palms  and  stately  poplars  inter- 
mingled their  swaying  branches;  flowering  plants  and  shrubs 
from  every  clime  lent  their  sweetest  perfumes  to  the  air.  Fruits 
from  the  north  and  fruits  from  the  south  were  mingled  in  an 
indiscriminate  orchard,  while  beneath,  half  hidden  in  the  vel- 
vety greensward,  the  rarest  of  flowers  raised  their  dainty  heads. 
Here  and  there  a  sweet-smelling  honeysuckle  wound  round  and 
round  a  stately  trunk  until  its  blossoms  were  hidden  in  the 
dense  foliage. 

It  was  the  beauty  of  wild  nature,  with  hardly  a  glimpse 
of  man's  handiwork.  No  mathematical  flower  beds,  no  trees 
pruned  into  fantastic  shapes,  no  spelling  of  names  in  flowers. 
The  very  paths  led  at  random  through  the  masses  of  verdure 
with  never  a  hint  of  regularity  or  precision.  It  was  yet  the 
very  height  of  artistic  gardening.  Small  animals,  against  whom 
no  weapon  had  ever  been  raised,  ran  in  and  out  through  the 
underbrush  without  fear;  so  tame  that  they  paid  little  heed  to 


246  RHESA 

the  presence  of  a  human  figure.  The  antelope  merely  raised 
its  pretty  head  and  gazed  curiously  out  of  its  gentle  eyes.  The 
nervous  hare  but  stopped  his  gambols  for  an  instant  and  then 
frisked  about  again. 

The  servant,  giving  Orma  but  little  opportunity  to  gaze  on 
the  beauties  of  this  artificial  paradise,  hurried  along  the  path 
toward  the  stairs  leading  up  to  the  second  terrace.  Up  they 
went,  down  a  path,  up  another  flight  of  stairs  and  so  on  until  the 
topmost  stage  was  reached.  Here  the  servant  left  her  after 
pointing  down  a  path  and  saying:  "Keep  straight  on  and 
thou  wilt  find  the  queen  waiting  for  thee." 

Orma  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  walked  slowly,  not  with- 
out misgivings,  in  the  direction  he  had  indicated.  Thus  far  she 
had  met  no  human  being  since  alighting  from  the  chariot,  but 
as  it  was  an  hour  of  the  day  at  which  few  people  were  abroad 
(and  they  only  of  the  lowest  classes)  and  further  since  the 
gardens  were  not  open  to  the  general  public,  she  need  feel  no 
surprise  at  being  alone.  Still  the  solitariness  of  the  place  op- 
pressed her  and  the  first  feeling  of  fear  came  over  her  as  she 
thought  how  strange  was  the  manner  in  which  she  had  been 
brought  here.  She  remembered  how  quiet  and  melancholy  the 
servant  had  been.  On  previous  occasions  she  had  always  been 
conducted  to  the  queen's  apartments. 

"Mayhap  it  is  no  longer  safe  for  us  to  meet  there,"  she  rea- 
soned to  assure  herself. 

At  the  moment  these  words  formed  themselves  in  her  mind 
she  turned  a  sharp  corner  and  emerged  upon  a  broad  terrace 
before  a  small  but  handsomely  constructed  villa.  Directly  be- 
fore her  stood  a  divan  formed  of  the  twisted  branches  of  trees. 
Upon  the  divan  sat  a  woman,  her  face  toward  the  villa  and 
her  back  toward  Orma.  The  girl  sprang  forward  eagerly  all 
her  fears  dispelled.  As  she  was  about  to  speak  the  woman 
turned.  It  was  not  Nitocris!  Seeing  the  girl  she  smiled. 

"Come,  my  dear,  be  seated.  Thou  must  be  weary  after 
climbing  all  these  steps,"  she  said. 

Her  voice  was  soft  and  musical  but  deeply  tinged  with  sad- 


THE  HANGING  GARDENS  247 

ness  and,  as  Orma  looked  upon  her,  she  noted  the  tragic  melan- 
choly printed  upon  her  beautiful  face. 

"Why  art  thou  here?"  asked  the  woman  after  Orma  had 
seated  herself. 

"I  came  at  Queen  Nitocris's  bidding  to  meet  her  here,"  re- 
plied the  girl. 

"Queen  Nitocris?  Here?"  exclaimed  the  woman  in  tones  of 
the  deepest  surprise.  "Queen  Nitocris  has  not  visited  this  place 
in  many  years." 

"Knowest  thou  what  yonder  villa  is?"  she  asked  a  moment 
later. 

"Nay,"  replied  Orma.  "I  have  never  before  visited  the  gar- 
dens." 

"It  is  the  residence  of  the  king's  concubines." 

Orma  started.     "And  thou?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  I  am  one  of  the  concubines,"  answered  the  woman 
bitterly. 

Unconsciously  Orma  drew  away  from  her  but  the  unfor- 
tunate woman  noticed  it  and  said: 

"Fear  me  not,  girl.    I  cannot  hurt  thee." 

As  she  spoke  a  low  whistle  was  heard  in  the  shrubbery  near 
by.  The  woman  arose  quickly,  glanced  apprehensively  about 
and,  bending  low  over  Orma,  thrust  something  into  her  hand. 

"I  must  go,"  she  whispered.     "Quick!     Hide  this!" 

"This"  was  a  small  dagger  with  a  gem-studded  handle. 
Orma  glanced  in  fright  at  the  woman  and  hurriedly  hid  the 
dagger  in  the  bosom  of  her  gown.  The  next  moment  she  was 
alone. 

There  was  a  rustle  in  the  bushes  and  with  a  frightened  look 
Orma  turned  in  that  direction.  As  she  faced  about  a  young 
man,  gaily  attired,  stepped  out  of  the  bushes.  He  bowed  low 
and  approached  her  with  an  air  of  the  greatest  gallantry.  As 
he  neared  her  he  doffed  his  silken  cap  with  a  sweeping  bow. 
Orma  shuddered  as  she  recognized  in  the  youth  Belshazzar, 
King  of  Babylon. 


248  RHESA 

"Ah,  my  lady,  is  it  chance  that  gives  me  the  long  sought 
opportunity  of  meeting  thee?"  he  asked  suavely. 

"Nay,  not  chance;  villainy,"  she  answered  passionately. 

"Hard  words  ill  become  such  lips  as  thine,  my  sweet,"  he 
said  with  a  smirk. 

She  stepped  backward. 

"What,  afraid  of  thy  lover?"  he  said  stepping  toward  her. 

"Thou  art  not  my  lover,"  she  cried,  hardly  realizing  what  she 
said. 

"Ah,  but  I  am,  my  black-haired  queen,"  he  replied. 

"Come,"  he  added,  "be  not  afraid  of  me.  I  am  here  to 
plead  with  thee,  to  offer  thee  the  honor  of  becoming  Baby- 
lon's queen." 

"Thou  art  already  married,"  she  said. 

"Yea,"  said  the  king,  "I  am  married  if  thou  wilt  call  it  so, 
but  I  would  make  thee  first.  These  are  not  wives."  He  waved 
his  hand  toward  the  villa. 

"If  thou  hast  any  pity  for  a  defenseless  girl,  O  King,  thou  wilt 
let  me  depart  at  once,"  said  Orma,  stepping  to  one  side  that 
she  might  pass  him. 

"Not  so  fast,  my  pretty,"  said  Belshazzar,  blocking  her  way. 
"Thou  art  in  my  power  now  and  shall  not  leave  this  place 
against  my  will.  Thou  shalt  become  my  wife,  peaceably  if 
thou  wilt  consent,  by  force  if  thou  art  stubborn." 

She  trembled  violently.  She  had  long  feared  the  youth. 
Several  times  he  had  stopped  her  in  the  palace  halls  but  she 
had  always  successfully  evaded  him.  Now  she  felt  herself 
alone  without  a  friend.  She  reasoned  that  Belshazzar  would 
not  attempt  such  an  enterprise  without  being  attended.  Even 
now  yonder  bushes  might  conceal  his  slaves  whom  she  knew 
would  obey  his  every  word  or  motion.  She  remembered  the 
dagger  and  was  on  the  point  of  reaching  for  it  when  she 
changed  her  mind,  thinking  it  best  not  to  reveal  its  existence 
so  soon.  It  might  prove  of  more  value  later.  Then,  too,  she 
realized  that  if,  as  she  supposed,  he  had  slaves  near  they  could 
easily  disarm  her.  She  therefore  made  no  attempt  to  produce 


THE  HANGING  GARDENS  249 

the  dagger  but  stood  defiant,  waiting  to  see  what  his  next 
move  would  be. 

Belshazzar  stood  irresolute,  watching  her  and  gazing  long- 
ingly upon  her.  His  eyes  were  inflamed  with  passion  and  boy 
though  he  was,  she  trembled  before  him. 

"Remember,  girl,"  he  said  at  length,  "if  thou  consentest 
without  obliging  me  to  use  force  it  is  honorable  marriage  I 
offer  thee,  but  if  thou  forcest  me  to  use  violence,  there  will  be 
no  marriage." 

Orma  looked  defiantly  into  his  face,  her  full  lips  curved 
with  contempt  and  loathing  for  the  youthful  libertine. 

"I  cannot  consent  to  such  a  marriage,"  she  said.  "Beside  I 
have  already  given  my  promise  to  a  man  whose  death  I  fear  is 
upon  thy  head." 

"I  know  not  thy  meaning,  girl,"  said  Belshazzar,  genuinely 
surprised,  for  he  had  not  been  present  when  Vulmaran  made 
his  announcement  and  arrangements  for  capturing  Sheshbazzar 
were  discussed. 

"I  mean  that  the  day  before  yesterday  thy  soldiers  took  him 
who  some  day — perhaps — will  be  my  husband  and  carried  him 
away  to  prison." 

"By  Nebo  girl,  I  know  nothing  of  this  matter.  I  swear 
no  one  has  been  taken  prisoner  of  late  so  far  as  I  am  aware." 

"It  may  have  been  thy  father." 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  am  aware  of  all  my  father  doeth.  There 
have  been  no  prisoners  taken  of  late.  To  be  sure  we  are 
searching  for  one  Sheshbazzar  but  I  fear  he  will  never  be 
taken." 

"He  is  the  man,"  she  said  quickly,  and  then  bit  her  lips  in 
vexation.  She  could  have  bitten  off  her  tongue  once  the  words 
were  said,  but  it  was  too  late.  If  they  had  him  prisoner  they  evi- 
dently knew  not  his  identity,  and  she  felt  she  had  murdered 
him.  Now  that  she  had  acknowledged  him  her  lover  Belshaz- 
zar would  doubly  hate  him.  She  felt  sick  at  heart  because 
of  her  thoughtless  speech.  So  intent  was  she  upon  her  own 


250  RHESA 

thoughts  that  she  noticed  not  the  effect  her  words  produced 
upon  her  tempter. 

The  boy  king  started  at  mention  of  Sheshbazzar's  name;  his 
face  assumed  an  expression  of  joy  and  eagerness,  but  this  soon 
died  out. 

"Nay,  by  the  gods,  that  were  news  too  good  to  be  true.  Had 
he  been  captured  I  would  be  the  first  to  hear  of  it.  I  swear, 
girl,  thou  art  wrong." 

"I  may  be,"  she  said,  hoping  to  retrieve  her  error. 

"How  much  better  would  it  be  to  marry  one  already  a  king 
than  one  who  aspires  to  be,"  pursued  Belshazzar,  returning  to 
the  original  subject. 

"Better  Sheshbazzar  a  slave  than  thou  a  king,"  she  cried 
hotly. 

"Oh,  ho,  is  that  thine  answer?"  he  asked. 

"Thou  mayest  take  it  for  an  answer  if  thou  choosest,"  she 
said. 

"Think,  girl,  what  thy  refusal  meanest  and  think  also  what 
it  is  thou  refusest.  I  swear  by  Bel  I  would  raise  thee  to  my 
rank  and  make  thee  my  queen.  I  tell  thee  again  I  will  love 
and  marry  thee  if  thou  consentest,  but  if  this  refusal  is  per- 
sisted in "  he  pointed  toward  the  villa. 

"Thou  wouldst  love  me  until  another  caught  thy  fancy," 
she  said. 

"Nay,  girl.  I  swear  I  love  thee.  I  will  make  thee  my  wife 
and  my  queen  in  one.  I  swear  to  love  and  honor  thee." 

"And  these?"  she  cried,  pointing  to  the  villa. 

A  cloud  passed  over  the  brow  of  the  young  king. 

"Remember,"  he  said,  "there  are  two  kings  in  Babylon.  With 
the  inmates  of  yonder  pavilion  I  have  little  concern,  but  I 
swear  to  thee  if  thou  wilt  become  my  wife  I  will  forsake  all 
others  for  thee  alone." 

"It  is  of  no  use,  O  King.  I  do  not  love  thee  and  never  can. 
Besides,  think  of  our  rank;  thou  a  king  and  I  but  a  captive 
maiden." 


THE  HANGING  GARDENS  251 

"Speak  not  of  rank,"  he  said,  "and  as  for  love,  I  can  make 
thee  love  me.  Come,  my  sweet,  what  sayest  thou?" 

"It  cannot  be.    Now  I  pray  thee  let  me  go,"  she  cried. 

"Go!     Never!    Thou  canst  only  go  with  me." 

"I  shall  not  go  with  thee,"  she  cried  as,  before  the  aston- 
ished king  could  stop  her,  she  leaped  past  him,  and  ran  downt 
the  path  toward  the  stairs  with  a  speed  born  of  desperation.  It 
was  a  useless  attempt.  What  could  she  do  alone?  As  she 
ran  past  a  clump  of  bushes  a  negro  sprang  out  and  caught  her 
by  the  shoulder,  bringing  her  to  an  abrupt  stop.  Another  fol- 
lowed and  another.  In  a  trice  she  found  herself  bound,  gagged 
and  hoodwinked. 

She  was  caught  up  and  thrown  upon  the  shoulders  of  her 
captors.  A  few  moments  later  she  could  feel  them  climbing 
a  few  steps.  As  a  door  closed  behind  them,  the  realization  of 
where  she  was  being  taken  came  to  her  with  sickening  distinct- 
ness. There  was  but  one  building  in  the  vicinity  and  that  the 
king's  harem! 

Her  bearers  kept  on  down  a  long  hall  and  then  paused  be- 
fore what  she  judged  to  be  her  cell.  A  moment  later  she  felt 
herself  lowered.  She  was  laid  gently  upon  a  couch  and  ap- 
parently left  alone  for  she  heard  those  who  had  brought  her 
depart,  closing  the  door  behind  them.  In  another  moment, 
however,  she  was  conscious  of  deft  fingers  at  work  untying  her 
bonds.  First  her  limbs  were  freed,  then  the  gag  was  removed 
and  at  last  the  napkin  fell  from  her  eyes.  She  blinked  a  mo- 
ment and  then  looked  about  her. 

A  rapid  glance  revealed  the  nature  of  her  prison.  It  was 
a  small  but  luxuriously  furnished  apartment,  lighted  by  a  large 
latticed  window  that  looked  out  upon  the  great  reservoir  whose 
waters  washed  the  base  of  the  Hanging  Gardens.  After  mak- 
ing a  swift  inventory  of  the  room  she  looked  for  the  jailer  who 
had  freed  her  bonds.  At  the  head  of  the  couch,  seated  upon  a 
low  hassock,  was  the  woman  she  had  seen  in  the  garden.  Orma 
sprang  up  with  a  cry  of  hatred. 


252  RHESA 

"Harlot,"  she  cried,  "thou  hast  betrayed  me  into  the  hands 
of  this  man." 

"Be  seated,  girl,"  said  the  woman  with  a  sad  smile.  "True 
it  is  I  was  required  to  sit  yonder  in  the  garden  and  detain  thee 
there  but  it  was  done  against  my  will.  Trust  me.  I  may  be  of 
service  to  thee." 

Orma  touched  her  gently  on  the  arm  as  she  said:  "Forgive 
me,  I  knew  not  what  I  said." 

"I  cannot  stay  here,"  said  the  woman  rising  to  depart.  At 
the  doorway  she  stopped,  turned  towards  the  girl  and  said: 

"Remember  what  I  gave  thee  and  hesitate  not  to  use  it.  Be- 
lieve me,  death  is  far  preferable  to  life  in  this  den  of  wicked- 
ness." 

A  moment  later  she  was  gone,  but  almost  immediately  the 
door  opened  again  and  another  entered.  The  newcomer  was 
Belshazzar. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A   WORD   OF   WARNING 

Upon  the  morning  of  their  second  day's  stay  in  Babylon 
Heber  and  Iddin  left  the  chief  priest's  house  early.  Both  had 
arisen  with  a  firm  determination  to  make  that  day's  work  much 
more  satisfactory  than  the  previous  one  had  been.  As  Ne- 
boakhu  had  well  said  they  must  gain  recruits  faster  than  that 
if  Sheshbazzar  was  ever  to  become  king. 

From  their  stopping  place  they  went  directly  to  the  great 
military  camp  without  the  walls.  They  found  a  most  animated 
scene.  During  several  days  past  large  bodies  of  soldiery  had 
been  arriving  at  the  capital  from  all  the  adjacent  portions  of 
the  empire,  until  no  less  than  sixty  thousand  men  were  en- 
camped upon  the  great  plain.  This  day  was  the  one  appointed 
for  breaking  camp  and  starting  upon  the  march  to  Sippara. 


A  WORD  OF  WARNING  253 

Already  one  corps  was  there  while  another  was  directly  op- 
posed to  the  Persian  lines  near  Accad. 

After  the  infantry  had  broken  camp  and  gotten  well  under 
way  the  cavalry  was  to  mobilize  upon  the  same  spot  and  when 
organized  they  too  were  to  march  northward.  The  latter, 
owing  to  their  great  rapidity  of  motion  were  expected  to  reach 
Sippara  at  about  the  same  time  as  the  infantry. 

The  young  men  put  in  a  busy  day,  mingling  with  the  troops 
and  dropping  now  and  then  a  few  words  to  lead  on  the  men. 
Notwithstanding  their  efforts  the  recruits  came  slowly.  At 
noon  not  over  two  hundred  men  had  agreed  to  fall  out  of  line 
at  the  old  tomb  and  join  the  pretender's  forces.  All  of  those 
who  refused  to  join  the  movement  had  the  same  excuse,  "The 
Persians."  Truly  the  rebellion  of  Sheshbazzar  was  ill-timed. 
At  another  period  when  no  outside  forces  had  to  be  reckoned 
with  he  might  have  been  successful.  Nevertheless  the  day  was 
crowded  with  interest  for  the  young  men.  They  watched  as 
regiment  after  regiment  formed  ranks  and  marched  away  to 
join  the  defenders  at  the  north. 

Shortly  after  noon  they  were  astonished  to  see  two  bodies  of 
cavalry  wheel  into  the  field  and  prepare  to  go  into  camp.  They 
were  ahead  of  time  by  at  least  one  day.  The  surprise  of  the 
young  men  was  still  further  increased  by  seeing  the  arrival  of 
the  Winged  Lions,  who  came  on  the  field  less  than  an  hour 
after  the  other  horsemen.  Curious  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  this 
change  of  program  they  sought  out  Belibus.  The  young  chief- 
tain welcomed  both  most  cordially.  He  smiled  as  he  addressed 
Heber.  The  young  Jew  had  some  misgivings  regarding  his 
reception  at  the  hands  of  his  former  adversary,  but  the  soldier's 
greeting  placed  him  at  ease  immediately.  Belibus  had  once 
turned  him  over  to  the  king  and  felt  therefore  he  had  no  further 
duty  with  him. 

"What  brings  all  these  horsemen  here  at  this  time?"  asked 
Iddin  when  the  greetings  were  over. 

"I  know  not,  unless  some  reconnaissance  is  to  be  made.  A  spy 
named  Shemakin  had  the  king's  ear  this  morning  and  imme- 


254  RHESA 

diately  after  we  were  ordered  into  camp.  I  suspect  the  spy 
brought  news  of  the  Persians'  actions,  but  I  have  received  no 
orders  to  indicate  our  destination,"  said  Belibus. 

"I  can  tell  thee  what  this  means,"  said  Iddin.  The  mention 
of  Shemakin's  name  had  shown  him  all.  He  then  told  Belibus 
of  the  location  of  Sheshbazzar  and  his  band  and  of  Shemakin's 
defection.  He  made  no  mention  of  Cyrus's  name  or  deeds, 
however. 

"By  the  gods!"  exclaimed  Belibus.  "What  am  I  to  do?  I 
am  a  soldier  of  Babylon  but  I  cannot  fight  my  old  commander. 
This  is  a  poor  time  for  his  step,  Iddin.  We  here  had  decided 
to  drop  our  plans  until  the  Persians  were  first  disposed  of.  We 
have  accordingly  passed  the  word  along  to  all  in  our  confi- 
dence." 

"That  then  accounts  for  our  lack  of  success  today,"  said 
Heber. 

"I  can  advise  thee  what  to  do,  Belibus,"  said  Iddin. 

"I  am  listening." 

"When  thou  art  sent  against  the  prince,  instead  of  oppos- 
ing him,  join  thy  forces  to  his." 

"I  have  long  intended  joining  him  and  my  command  will 
follow  me.  The  only  perplexity,  Iddin,  is  to  decide  how  to 
join  him." 

"A  way  must  be  found,  Belibus.  We  need  the  help  of  thy- 
self and  thy  men.  We  must  strike  before  the  Persians  do." 

"Iddin,'  said  the  soldier  sadly,  "I  am  despondent  today.  I 
feel  defeat  awaits  our  army.  I  fear  we  must  prepare  our  necks 
to  receive  the  Persian  yoke.  Rumor  has  it  the  army  of  Cyrus 
cannot  be  numbered,  while  the  largest  force  we  can  muster  will 
be  less  than  two  hundred  thousand.  Even  with  that  force  a 
skilful  leader  could  work  wonders,  but  we  have  no  leader.  Ah, 
Iddin,  I  feel  our  beloved  city  and  empire  are  doomed.  If  we 
are  defeated  by  the  Persians  what  can  Sheshbazzar  do?" 

"Do?"  cried  Iddin,  "Sheshbazzar  can  do  anything,  every- 
thing. If  our  army  is  defeated  at  Sippara  he  can  rally  the  rem- 


A  WORD  OF  WARNING  255 

nant,  take  Babylon  and  defy  the  Persian  to  oust  him.  Yonder 
walls  can  be  neither  scaled  nor  breached." 

"I  would  I  had  the  hope  thou  hast,  Iddin,  but  depend  upon 
one  thing;  the  Winged  Lions  will  not  fight  against  the  man 
who  once  commanded  them.  Thou  knowest  ours  is  no  ordin- 
ary military  organization.  We  are  a  secret  brotherhood  bound 
together  by  sacred  vows.  Those  vows  compel  us  to  stand  by 
one  another  through  everything.  Sheshbazzar  is  still  a  member 
of  our  brotherhood  and  is  our  secret  leader,  though  not  our 
public  commander.  Therefore  when  he  needs  us  we  will  not 
be  found  wanting." 

Belibus  spoke  in  a  serious  convincing  manner  that  inspired 
confidence  in  his  hearers.  Having  thus  spoken  the  soldier 
turned  away  from  them  to  direct  his  men  in  their  preparations 
for  camping.  Soon  after  Heber  left  Iddin  to  continue  his 
work,  while  he  spent  a  short  time  in  his  father's  company. 

Upon  reaching  his  home  he  tied  his  horse  to  a  small  tree 
beside  the  road.  He  passed  around  the  house  and  through  the 
garden  to  Orma's  bower,  but  it  was  deserted.  Retracing  his 
steps  to  the  front  of  the  dwelling  he  entered  by  the  wide  door- 
way. He  searched  through  all  the  rooms  of  the  lower  floor 
but  found  no  one.  Therefore  he  climbed  the  stairs  to  the 
second  story  and  continued  his  search  through  the  chambers. 
He  paused  at  the  door  of  Orma's  sleeping  apartment  and 
knocked  several  times,  but  received  no  response.  At  length 
the  muffled  tones  of  a  man's  voice  reached  him.  He  recognized 
them  as  his  father's  and  turned  to  listen  that  he  might  dis- 
cover from  whence  they  came.  He  at  once  discovered  them 
to  come  from  a  room  at  the  further  end  of  the  hall  from 
Orma's  chamber.  He  walked  rapidly  up  the  hall  toward  the 
front  of  the  house.  Upon  reaching  the  door  he  stopped  a 
moment  to  listen  again.  Nehum  was  praying.  Heber  pushed 
the  door  open  and  slipped  quietly  into  the  room. 

Before  an  open  window,  looking  toward  Jerusalem,  the  old 
man  knelt  with  his  arms  uplifted  to  Heaven.  His  whole  frame 
trembled  with  the  deepest  emotion  as  he  poured  forth  an  urg- 


256  RHESA 

ent  supplication  to  Deity.  Heber  listened  unwillingly  but  not 
liking  to  interrupt  his  father. 

"Oh  my  Father,"  the  old  man  cried,  "Why  has  this  afflic- 
tion been  sent  upon  me?  Why  hast  thou  taken  both  my  chil- 
dren from  me?  My  son,  my  first  born  to  die  in  prison  and 
my  daughter,  the  last  comfort  of  an  old  man's  heart  is  now 
torn  from  me.  Oh  Lord  God,  I  beseech  thee  restore  my 
precious  jewel  unto  me.  Stay  thou  the  lust  of  the  heathen  that 
she  return  unto  me  unspotted." 

Heber  could  wait  no  longer.  He  must  learn  the  meaning 
of  his  father's  impassioned  words.  His  sister!  His  idolized 
sister!  What  had  come  upon  her  to  call  forth  such  heart- 
rending sobs  as  mingled  with  the  old  man's  petitions? 

"Father!"  he  cried.  "Tell  me  the  meaning  of  thy  words! 
Tell  me  what  calamity  has  fallen  upon  my  sister!" 

Nehum  ceased  speaking,  but  remained  in  the  same  position. 
He  knelt  motionless  as  one  spellbound.  Was  he  dreaming  or 
did  he  really  hear  the  voice  of  his  first  born  ? 

"Father,  arise  and  tell  me  the  cause  of  thy  sorrow.  If 
aught  has  befallen  my  sister  we  will  raise  our  voices  together 
that  she  may  be  saved  and  restored  unto  us,"  said  Heber. 

As  he  spoke  these  words  he  had  crossed  the  room.  He  now 
grasped  his  father's  trembling  hand  that  he  might  assist.  The 
old  man  arose  slowly  and  painfully  from  his  knees  and  when 
erect  he  stood  an  instant  gazing  into  his  son's  face.  He  was  at 
first  bewildered,  but  when  the  realization  that  this  apparition 
was  his  own  Heber  alive  and  well  came  over  him,  he  opened 
his  arms  and  clasped  the  young  man  to  his  bosom  in  a  long, 
fond  embrace. 

"My  son,  my  son,"  he  cried.  "Hast  thou  at  last  returned 
to  thy  father's  arms?" 

"Yea,  father,  it  is  thy  wayward  boy  again  returned  to  claim 
thy  love  and  forgiveness.  Tell  me  though  I  beg  thee,  father, 
what  has  befallen  my  sister." 

Heber  led  his  father  to  a  convenient  couch  and  when  they 


A  WORD  OF  WARNING  257 

were  seated  the  old  man  related  all  he  knew  concerning  Orma's 
disappearance. 

"I  fear,"  he  said  in  closing,  "she  has  been  carried  away  to 
a  life  worse  than  death.  Of  late  she  has  been  often  to  the 
palace  to  confer  with  the  queen,  and  several  times  she  has  been 
stopped  in  the  hall  by  the  young  king.  She  has  spoken  to  me 
of  her  fear  of  him.  Boy  though  he  is,  he  is  already  notorious 
for  his  lewdness,  and  I  fear  me,  Heber,  he  has  lured  our 
precious  flower  away  for  lustful  reasons.  This  morning  I  sent( 
a  message  to  the  queen  that  I  might  learn  if  she  it  was  who  sent 
for  thy  sister.  She  returned  answer  that  she  knew  nothing  of 
the  matter,  but  added  that  she  would  take  steps  to  learn  of 
Orma's  whereabouts." 

Heber  leaped  to  his  feet  crazed  by  grief  and  rage. 

"May  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  the  man  who  has  ab- 
ducted her;  I  shall  not.  I  swear  to  kill  him  if  we  meet,"  he 
cried. 

"My  son,  vengeance  is  the  Lord's,"  said  the  old  man  sol- 
emnly. 

Heber  strode  up  and  down  the  apartment,  his  hands  tightly 
clenched  and  his  face  twitching  convulsively.  For  months  he 
had  been  looking  forward  to  this  visit,  to  meeting  with  his 
father  and  sister.  Now  to  have  all  his  pleasant  anticipations 
crushed  in  this  manner  was  a  dissappointment  greater  seem- 
ingly than  he  could  bear.  His  father  meanwhile  sat  silent 
upon  the  divan  watching  his  son's  emotion  and  waiting  for  the 
first  outburst  to  pass  away.  At  length  he  spoke. 

"Heber,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "come  and  sit  beside  me.  Tell 
me  concerning  thyself.  For  a  year  we  have  mourned  thee  as 
one  dead.  Where  hast  thou  been  and  how  hast  thou  escaped 
from  the  hands  of  the  king?" 

Thus  entreated  Heber  calmed  himself  and  reseated  himself 
at  his  father's  side.  He  related  all  that  had  befallen  him  since 
the  eventful  night  when  he  had  attempted  to  lead  his  people 
to  liberty.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  tell  all,  even  to  his  own  marriage. 
The  old  man  listened  attentively  until  his  son  had  finished. 


258  RHESA 

"Where  is  Tirmar  thy  wife?"  he  asked  simply. 

"She  is  in  the  camp  of  the  Persians,  ministering  unto  Queen 
Cassandane,"  was  the  reply. 

"Thou  wilt  have  some  sad  news  to  convey  unto  her.  Her 
father,  Josedek,  has  been  called  away  from  earth." 

"Then  Joshua  is  high  priest?" 

"Ay,  my  son,  and  a  noble  man  he  is.  But  what  brings  thee 
here  at  this  time?  Art  thou  here  in  thy  patron's  service?" 
asked  Nehum. 

"Nay,  father,  I  am  here  seeking  men  to  join  Prince  Shesh- 
bazzar  in  his  attempt  to  win  the  throne." 

"Sheshbazzar  ?"  exclaimed  Nehum.  "We  supposed  him 
again  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies." 

"Captured  he  was,  father,  but  the  soldiers  of  King  Cyrus 
rescued  him." 

"Ah,  Heber,  if  thy  sister  could  only  learn  of  this,"  and  the 
old  man  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"Are  they  to  marry,  father?"  asked  Heber.  "I  have  some- 
times thought  there  was  something  between  them." 

"They  love,  Heber,  but  I  have  not  given  my  permission  to 
a  betrothal.  I  cannot  allow  thy  sister  to  become  his  wife  while 
he  remains  an  idolater." 

"Thou  art  right,  father,"  said  Heber,  speaking  as  an  ad- 
viser would. 

"I  am  praying  that  the  noble  prince  may  learn  to  love  our 
God.  Were  he  a  worshiper  of  Jehovah  gladly  would  I  bestow 
thy  sister  upon  him." 

"I  fear  he  never  will,  father.  These  Babylonians  are  a  proud, 
conceited  race.  Were  he  sure  our  God  was  the  true  God  his 
pride  would  prevent  his  acknowledging  it." 

They  sat  until  nearly  dusk  conversing  together.  At  last 
Heber  reluctantly  arose  to  depart.  His  father  motioned  him 
to  kneel  and  the  old  man  poured  out  a  brief  prayer  of  thanks 
for  Heber's  return  and  of  supplication  for  Orma's  safety.  After 
a  final  embrace  Heber  departed. 

That  evening  the  three  men  sat  in  the  library  of  Neboakhu's 


A  WORD  OF  WARNING  259 

residence  conversing  upon  the  subject  uppermost  in  their 
thoughts.  Their  discussion  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
a  servant  who  informed  them  a  soldier  waited  without  desir- 
ing to  speak  with  them  at  once. 

"Show  him  in,"  ordered  Neboakhu. 

The  servant  returned  a  moment  later  followed  by  the  sol- 
dier. All  three  arose  to  greet  the  newcomer  who  was  Belibus. 

"I  am  come  to  tell  thee  of  the  king's  plans,"  he  said.  "A 
messenger  has  been  sent  forward  with  orders  for  three  thou- 
sand footmen  to  halt  at  the  prince's  camp,  and  the  two  thou- 
sand horse  that  went  into  camp  today  are  to  start  before  day- 
break. Their  orders  are  to  bring  Sheshbazzar  back  dead  or 
alive,  but  the  king  warned  the  commander  to  take  him  alive  if 
possible.  The  Winged  Lions  are  not  to  go  after  all.  We  are 
to  wait  and  acompany  the  king  when  he  starts  for  the  front. 
Thou,  Iddin,  must  leave  the  city.  Thy  presence  in  the  city  and 
thy  connection  with  the  prince  are  both  known.  Do  not  wait 
for  daylight  but  go  immediately.  Come,  I  will  accompany  thee 
and  see  thee  safely  through  the  gates.  Ride  all  night  and  place 
Sheshbazzar  on  his  guard." 

Iddin  hastened  to  the  apartment  he  had  occupied  during  his 
stay  beneath  Neboakhu's  roof  and  made  such  preparations  for 
his  hurried  departure  as  were  necessary.  Immediately  after  he 
reappeared  in  the  library,  he  and  Belibus  said  farewell  to  the 
others  and  departed. 

At  the  door  stood  the  ever-faithful  Kudur  holding  three 
horses,  the  forethought  of  Belibus  having  provided  Iddin  with 
a  fresh  mount.  They  vaulted  into  their  saddles  without  speak- 
ing. Belibus  took  the  lead  that  he  might  set  the  pace,  and  the 
others  followed  in  single  file.  They  rode  slowly  for  fear  speed 
might  cause  suspicion,  but  the  streets  through  which  they  took 
their  way  were  dark  and  well  nigh  deserted.  Fortunate  it  was 
for  Iddin  that  the  location  of  Neboakhu's  house  enabled  him 
to  reach  the  wall  without  traversing  the  principal  streets  of 
the  city.  At  the  slow  trot  Belibus  deemed  necessary  it  took 
them  twenty  minutes  to  reach  the  gate  in  the  inner  wall.  They 


a6o  RHESA 

experienced  no  difficulty  in  passing  this  point  but  Belibus  had 
misgivings  as  to  their  being  as  successful  at  the  outer  wall. 

Upon  reaching  the  great  outer  gate  he  put  on  a  bold  face 
and  demanded  that  the  gates  be  opened  at  once. 

"By  what  authority?"  demanded  the  officer  in  charge. 

"By  authority  of  the  king.  Open  the  gates  for  the  king's 
messenger.  For  the  love  of  thy  nation  open  and  delay  not. 
The  very  life  of  our  nation  depends  upon  this  message,"  replied 
Belibus.  His  last  saying  was  true  though  in  a  different  way 
than  he  wished  the  officer  to  understand  it. 

"I  must  have  a  pass,  sir.  Thou  knowest  how  strict  are  the 
present  orders  about  opening  the  gates  after  dark,"  said  the 
officer. 

Belibus  made  no  reply  but  beckoned  the  officer  to  approach. 
The  man  obeyed,  apparently  with  reluctance.  Belibus  leaned 
over  and  whispered  a  single  word  in  his  ear.  The  effect  was 
magical.  The  officer  turned  instantly  and  walked  rapidly 
toward  the  small  guard  house  just  under  the  great  wall.  He 
called  out  two  soldiers  who  quickly  undid  the  fastenings  of  the 
great  bronze  gates  and  swung  one  of  them  open  sufficiently  for 
a  horseman  to  pass  through.  Iddin  bade  his  friend  a  hasty 
farewell  and  a  moment  later  dashed  through  the  opening. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

ORMA   AND   BELSHAZZAR 

When  Orma  beheld  Belshazzar  actually  within  her  cham- 
ber, the  very  lifeblood  of  her  heart  seemed  to  cease  its  tumul- 
tuous career.  She  leaped  from  the  couch  and  rested  her  hand 
upon  its  head  for  support.  Her  every  limb  trembled;  she  was 
cold  from  head  to  foot.  At  that  moment  she  could  have  prayed 
for  the  earth  to  open  and  engulf  her  rather  than  become  the 
slave  of  this  man.  Meanwhile  the  young  king  stood  still  near 
the  door  and  looked  her  over  calmly. 


ORMA  AND  BELSHAZZAR  261 

For  several  moments,  moments  that  seemed  as  many  eter- 
nities to  the  unfortunate  girl,  they  stood  thus  facing  each  other, 
the  one  frozen  by  fear,  the  other  inflamed  with  passion.  Up  to 
this  moment  Orma  had  scarcely  realized  the  peril  that  assailed 
her,  so  sudden  had  it  all  been;  but  now,  as  she  saw  the  light 
in  the  king's  eyes  she  was  conscious  of  his  intentions  and  the 
thought  of  them  sapped  her  remaining  strength.  She  tottered 
and  would  have  fallen  but  for  the  support  of  the  couch. 

Belshazzar,  unable  to  restrain  himself  longer,  took  a  few 
steps  forward.  Involuntarily  Orma  took  as  many  backward. 
This  movement  placed  her  in  the  corner  of  the  room  from 
whence  there  could  be  no  retreat.  She  stood  braced  against 
the  wall,  looking  piteously  at  her  foe  much  as  a  poor  hunted 
doe  might  make  her  stand  against  some  ancient  trunk  and  face 
the  pitiless  hounds  which  had  chased  her  all  the  day. 

Belshazzar  smiled  a  coarse,  sensual  smile,  as  he  realized  how 
completely  within  his  power  was  this  beautiful  creature.  For 
months  as  he  had  seen  her  upon  her  occasional  visits  at  the 
palace  he  had  longed  for  this  moment,  and  now  it  had  come. 
Still  he  seemed  in  no  hurry,  but  lingered  to  feast  his  eyes  upon 
her.  Her  respite  was  not  for  long,  as  in  another  moment  he 
approached  her,  one  hand  outheld  as  a  sign  of  friendship.  She 
crouched  still  farther  into  her  corner,  if  that  were  possible. 
Belshazzar  could  perceive  her  fright,  but  it  had  no  effect  upon 
"him.  Still  he  approached  her,  a  calm  smile  upon  his  face. 

"Ah,  my  pretty,  is  this  the  way  to  receive  thy  husband?"  he 
said  smiling. 

"Husband,"  she  hissed  between  her  closed  teeth,  "it  were  in- 
sult to  the  word  coming  from  thy  lips." 

"What,  still  defiant?"  he  asked  laughing. 

She  made  no  reply. 

He  was  now  within  an  arm's  reach  of  her.  To  Orma  it 
seemed  as  if  her  heart  stopped  beating  and  her  breath  ceased. 
He  reached  out  his  hand  and  touched  her  upon  her  shoulder. 
Instantly  she  threw  his  arm  away  with  a  violent  blow.  He 


262  RHESA 

stepped  back  astonished  that  so  terrified  a  creature  could  defend 
herself. 

"That  was  not  pretty,"  he  said  still  preserving  his  calm  ex- 
terior, though  inward  fires  consumed  him. 

He  stood  still  a  moment,  the  doe  holding  the  hounds  at  bay. 
He  was  for  the  time  being  irresolute.  The  girl's  spirit  was 
unlocked  for,  and  he  was  but  a  boy.  Still  his  passion  urged 
him  on  and  would  not  give  up  the  strife  so  soon.  Again  he 
approached  the  corner  in  which  she  crouched,  but  he  made  no 
attempt  to  touch  her. 

"My  dear,"  he  said  in  his  most  persuasive  tone,  "it  is  wrong 
for  thee  to  thus  spurn  me  from  thee.  Remember  I  am  King  of 
Babylon  and  the  position  I  offer  thee  is  an  honorable  one." 

"Honorable?"  she  said  with  a  bitter  laugh. 

"As  I  told  thee  before,  I  offer  thee  honorable  marriage  if 
thou  consentest  of  thine  own  will.  Think,  girl,  thou  art  in 
my  power.  No  power  on  earth  can  save  thee.  Have  thee  I 
will  so  thou  wouldst  best  accept  my  offer  and  become  my  wife." 

"I  gave  thee  my  answer.  Thinkest  thou  thy  treatment  since 
has  been  such  as  to  change  my  mind?" 

"I  regret  the  violence,  but  I  gave  thee  warning.  I  was  in 
earnest.  Thou  art  deserving  of  the  worst  but  I  love  thee 
enough  to  make  me  plead  with  thee.  Listen,  girl,  I  lied  to  thee 
in  the  garden.  Sheshbazzar  has  been  captured  and  tonight  he 
goes  into  the  drowning  chamber  to  die  like  a  rat.  Because  of 
my  love  for  thee  I  will  set  him  at  liberty  if  thou  wilt  consent 
to  become  my  wife." 

Intuitively  she  felt  he  was  insincere.  His  surprise  at  her 
announcing  the  prince's  capture  had  been  too  perfect  for  act- 
ing. She  was  confident  that  he  lied  in  the  last  speech  and  not 
in  the  first. 

"I  have  said  all  I  shall  ever  say.  I  will  not  marry  thee." 
She  spoke  defiantly.  Since  she  had  so  easily  repulsed  him  she 
had  gained  confidence. 

"Come,  I  will  give  thee  one  more  chance.  Think,  girl,  what 
it  means  to  be  queen  of  Babylon.  Thou  shalt  be  honored  above 


ORMA  AND  BELSHAZZAR  263 

all.  Everything  thy  heart  desires  thou  shalt  have.  Thy  life 
will  be  a  happy  one  surrounded  by  wealth  and  comfort." 

"Nay,  King,  such  things  tempt  me  not.  I  have  given  thee 
my  answer.  I  can  say  no  more." 

An  expression  of  intense  passion  came  over  the  face  of  the 
boy  king  and  he  made  another  movement  toward  her.  In- 
stantly Orma  threw  open  her  long  robe,  exposing  her  bosom, 
Snatching  the  dagger  she  held  it  aloft  ready  to  strike. 

"One  step  nearer,"  she  cried,  "and  I  will  plunge  this  dag- 
ger into  my  heart.  Thou  shalt  not  dishonor  my  living  body." 

Belshazzar  retreated  in  dismay  and  to  Orma's  great  sur- 
prise he  left  the  room.  On  the  threshold  he  stopped  and  turned 
to  say: 

"Thou  hast  the  advantage  this  time,  but  think  not  I  am  thus 
easily  baffled.  When  I  come  again  I  shall  have  assistance. 
Another  time  thou  canst  not  escape  me." 

After  he  had  gone  Orma  threw  herself  upon  the  couch,  face 
downward  and  gave  way  completely  to  her  sorrows. >  A  flood 
of  tears  wet  the  silken  pillow  and  her  whole  body  quivered. 
Deep  convulsive  sobs  racked  her,  showing  the  intensity  of  her. 
grief.  As  she  lay  there  she  prayed  as  she  had  never  prayed 
before;  prayed  that  the  threatened  disgrace  might  pass  over  her. 
At  length  thoughts  of  the  man  who  loved  her  came  into  her 
mind  and  she  longed  for  some  method  of  notifying  him  of  her 
plight.  She  knew  full  well  if  he  could  learn  of  her  wherea- 
bouts no  power  on  earth  could  prevent  his  coming  to  her  aid. 
Then  the  thought  of  his  being  a  prisoner  also  came  into  her 
mind  and  the  last  vestige  of  hope  left  her.  She  wondered 
which  of  Belshazzar's  statements  concerning  the  prince  to  be- 
lieve. She  was  inclined  to  believe  the  boy  ignorant  of  the  cap- 
ture. 

Finally  she  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  of  home  and  loved  ones. 
When  she  awoke  it  was  night  and  she  was  in  utter  darkness. 
She  sat  up  fearful.  She  was  afraid  to  go  to  sleep  again  lest 
Belshazzar  should  return  while  she  was  unconscious.  She  lis- 
tened intently  but  nothing  could  be  heard,  save  the  gentle  wash 


264  RHESA 

of  the  water  beneath  and  an  occasional  cry  from  some  night  bird 
perched  among  the  branches  in  the  garden.  She  lay  down 
again  resolving  to  keep  awake,  but  in  a  few  moments  she  was 
asleep.  The  nervous  strain  she  had  undergone  was  more  than 
nature  could  withstand  and  sleep  came  unbidden. 

When  she  awoke  it  was  broad  daylight.  The  warm  morn- 
ing sun  was  shining  in  at  her  window,  throwing  one  broad 
beam  across  her  face.  She  arose  and  made  her  toilet  as  well  as 
the  means  at  hand  permitted.  Then  she  drew  a  stool  to  the 
window  and  seated  herself.  With  her  elbows  upon  the  sill  and 
her  chin  supported  upon  her  hands,  she  sat  looking  out  upon 
the  scene  of  beauty  about  and  below  her.  She  remained  in 
this  position  until  the  opening  of  the  door  aroused  her.  She 
turned  quickly  fearing  Belshazzar  had  returned  according  to 
his  promise,  but  she  was  at  once  reassured.  It  was  only  the 
woman  who  had  given  her  the  dagger,  coming  with  her  break- 
fast. The  woman  spread  the  viands  out  upon  a  low  table  and 
invited  the  prisoner  to  partake  of  them. 

While  she  was  eating  Orma  told  the  woman  (whom  she 
now  trusted  fully)  of  all  that  had  taken  place  the  preceding 
afternoon.  The  woman  listened  attentively.  When  Orma 
had  finished  speaking  she  said: 

"Thou  hast  escaped  him  for  the  time  being,  but  I  fear,  my 
girl,  'twill  not  be  for  long.  I  know  nothing  of  this  boy  but 
if  he  be  like  unto  his  father  nothing  but  death  can  save  thee." 

To  Orma  the  words  sounded  harsh  but  they  were  actuated 
by  sentiments  of  the  deepest  pity. 

"Alas!"  cried  the  girl,  "what  am  I  to  do?" 

"There  is  but  one  way  of  escape.  That  way  I  have  pro- 
vided for  thee." 

"Oh,  but  I  do  not  want  to  die." 

"My  dear  girl,"  said  the  woman  tenderly,  placing  one  arm 
about  Orma.  "Believe  what  I  say.  For  twenty  years,  since  I 
was  a  girl  of  sixteen,  have  I  been  a  concubine  of  the  kings  of 
Babylon  and  I  say  unto  thee,  far  better  is  everlasting  death 
than  one  hour  of  the  terrible  misery  of  this  life." 


ORMA  AND  BELSHAZZAR  265 

Orma  looked  up  sadly  into  her  face.  She  was  forgetful  of 
her  own  troubles  in  thinking  of  the  terrible  life  this  poor  woman 
had  led. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  for  thee,"  she  said  tenderly. 

The  woman  said  nothing  but  she  looked  the  thanks  she  felt 
for  the  girl's  sympathy.  Neither  spoke  for  some  moments. 
Orma  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"If  only  my  lover  were  at  liberty  and  I  could  get  word  to 
him.  All  the  king's  soldiers  could  not  keep  him  away,"  she 
said. 

"Thy  lover,  girl?     Is  he  a  prisoner?" 

"I  fear  so.  He  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  soldiers  but  Bel- 
shazzar  denies  all  knowledge  of  his  capture." 

"What  is  his  name?"  asked  the  woman. 

"Sheshbazzar,"  replied  Orma. 

"Sheshbazzar!"  she  cried.  "Has  he  then  announced  him- 
self? Is  he  striving  to  gain  his  rights?" 

"He  has  not  announced  himself  publicly  as  yet  but  he  was 
preparing  to  step  forward  when  he  was  captured.  But  dost 
thou  know  of  him?" 

"Know  of  him?"  she  said.  "Did  I  not  give  my  babe  that 
he  might  live?" 

"Thou  ?"  exclaimed  Orma.  "Art  thou  the  girl  that  changed 
the  children?" 

"I  was  the  girl,"  answered  the  woman  bitterly. 

"Oh,  tell  me  of  it,"  cried  Orma. 

Thus  invited  the  woman  began  a  narrative  of  the  utmost 
interest  to  her  auditor. 

"My  name  is  Maraida,"  she  began.  "I  am  like  thyself  a 
daughter  of  Judah.  I  know  nothing  of  my  parents  save  that 
they  were  Jews.  For  all  I  know  I  was  born  in  the  palace.  My 
earliest  remembrance  is  of  living  there.  When  I  was  old 
enough  I  was  given  some  task  to  perform  and  when  I  was 
fourteen  I  was  appointed  to  serve  the  queen.  Thus  it  hap- 
pened I  was  in  the  queen's  service  at  the  time  of  her  husband's 
murder. 


266  RHESA 

"I  was  in  the  room  with  the  queen  when  the  old  priest  came 
running  in  with  the  news  that  men  were  killing  the  king.  A 
moment  later  the  king  himself  came  running  followed  by  those 
who  sought  to  slay  him.  At  that  moment  I  thought  of  chang- 
ing my  babe  for  the  young  prince  and  in  an  instant  the  old 
priest  and  I  had  made  the  change.  Alas,  my  poor  little  boy, 
but  I  suppose  it  was  for  the  best.  So  he  has  arisen  to  claim 
his  right  and  thou,  a  Jewess,  art  his  sweetheart. 

"The  rest  of  my  life  thou  canst  guess.  Forced  by  the  vile 
Neriglissar,  he  who  slew  Evil-Merodach,  to  become  his  con- 
cubine I  have  since  been  the  property  of  two  other  kings.  I 
have  lived  a  life  of  ease  and  luxury  but  it  has  been  worse  than 
death.  My  lot  has  been  far  better  than  that  of  some  of  my 
less  fortunate  sisters  as  my  beauty  has  lasted  longer.  Today 
though  I  am  nearly  forty  years  of  age  I  am  still  the  favorite 
of  Nabonidos." 

"Maraida,"  said  Orma  sternly,  "answer  me  one  question. 
Was  this  babe  thou  sacrificed  thine  own  ?" 

The  woman  was  confused  and  did  not  reply  immediately. 
When  she  did  speak  Orma  was  convinced  that  she  spoke  the 
truth. 

"To  tell  thee  all,"  she  said,  "the  child  was  not  mine  but  be- 
longed to  a  Jewish  woman  who  was  very  ill  for  a  long  time. 
I  took  care  of  it  from  the  day  it  was  born." 

"Rememberest  thou  the  child's  name?" 

"I  do,  plainly.     It  was  Zerubbabel." 

"Ah,  Maraida,"  said  Orma  sadly,  "that  babe  was  the  direct 
descendant  of  King  David.  Were  he  living  today  he  would  be 
our  prince." 

"Alas!"  exclaimed  Maraida,  "that  I,  a  Jew,  should  be  the 
means  of  ending  our  royal  line." 


THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP  267 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  following  the  de- 
parture of  his  lieutenants  for  Babylon,  Sheshbazzar  stood  at 
the  entrance  of  his  camp  looking  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
great  city.  Beneath,  upon  the  borders  of  the  great  road,  a 
large  body  of  infantry  was  encamped.  The  presence  of  the 
king's  troops  troubled  him,  for  even  though  they  were  unaware 
of  the  proximity  of  his  camp,  their  present  location  at  the  exact 
spot  where  his  recruits  must  leave  the  road,  would  prevent  any 
additions  reaching  his  forces.  Thus  far  about  four  hundred 
men  had  joined  him,  raising  his  total  to  nearly  a  thousand,  but 
he  realized  that  at  this  rate  of  progress  it  would  be  weeks  if 
not  months  before  he  could  begin  active  operations.  Then  it 
would  be  too  late.  Already  he  had  changed  his  plans  to  accord 
with  this  condition.  He  had  now  decided  to  wait  until  the 
troops  of  the  king  had  all  departed  for  the  front.  Then  he 
would  dash  into  the  defenceless  city  and  become  its  master. 
If  Nabonidos  was  successful  he  would  close  the  gates  against 
him;  if  on  the  other  hand  Cyrus  broke  through  the  lines  of  the 
king,  he  would  welcome  the  defeated  army  in  Babylon  and 
oppose  the  Persians,  trusting  to  the  height  and  strength  of  the 
massive  walls  to  bring  him  success. 

With  this  plan  in  mind  he  saw  with  interest  and  pleasure 
the  long  lines  of  marching  men  that  were  continually  passing 
at  his  feet.  Every  body  that  passed  his  camp  meant  that  many 
less  troops  remaining  in  the  city.  So  completely  was  his  camp 
sheltered  by  its  surroundings  that  it  was  entirely  hidden  from 
the  passing  soldiers.  But  for  Shemakin  and  his  anticipated 
treachery,  he  would  have  felt  comparatively  secure.  The  con- 
tinued presence  of  the  encamped  troops  worried  him.  If  they 
had  merely  pitched  their  camp  for  the  night  they  would  have 


268  .  RHESA 

been  in  motion  long  since.     He  was  beginning  to  connect  them 
with  Shemakin. 

The  past  two  days  had  not  been  idle  ones  in  Sheshbazzar's 
camp.  From  early  morning  until  sundown  he  had  drilled  his 
men,  with  results  both  gratifying  and  surprising.  The  men  at 
once  recognized  their  leader  as  a  master  in  his  profession  and 
accorded  him  the  respect  and  obedience  that  were  his  due: 
Under  his  skilful  guidance  they  marched  and  rode  like  vet- 
erans, while  the  incessant  archery  practice  made  them  experts. 
Had  Nabonidos  persisted  in  his  intention  of  making  this  man 
the  commander  of  his  army  and  given  him  absolute  control  in 
all  matters  of  drill,  discipline  and  disposition  the  history  of 
Asia  might  prove  vastly  different  reading.  But  Nabonidos  was 
the  tool  of  Destiny.  The  hour  had  come  for  the  final  over- 
throw of  the  Semitic  race  and  no  man  could  have  stemmed  the 
Aryan  tide. 

Well  indeed  was  this  irksome  but  necessary  drilling,  for  £ould 
Sheshbazzar  have  seen  far  enough  into  the  distance,  he  would 
have  beheld  the  flower  of  the  king's  cavalry  hastening  toward 
his  camp.     Even  now  as  he  stood  leaning  against   a  stately 
trunk,  gazing  thoughtfully  into  the  distance,  he  saw  a  horse- 
man  approaching  at   a  breakneck  pace.      Suddenly  he   disap- 
peared.    The  prince  remained  watching  for  the  reappearance 
of  the  rider.    In  a  few  moments  he  came  galloping  up  the  gen- 
tle slope  toward   the  camp  entrance.     He  had  made  a  long 
detour  through  the  fields,  thus  approaching  the  camp  in  such  a 
way  as  to  be  unseen  of  the  troops  below.     The  prince  recog- 
nized him  at  once.    It  was  Iddin.     Seeing  his  superior  standing 
at  the  entrance,  he  dismounted  and  approached  on  foot. 
"What  news,  Iddin?"  inquired  the  prince. 
"The  worst  possible.     A  force  is  under  way  to  strengthen 
that  yonder  and  they  will  attack  our  camp  soon,  possibly  be- 
fore night.    Their  orders  are  to  bring  thee  back  dead  or  alive." 
"It  will  be  dead  if  at  all,"  said  the  prince  sorrowfully. 
"There  is  worse  news  still  for  thee,  I  fear,"  continued  Iddin. 


THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP  269 

"Thy  sweetheart  has  been  abducted,  by  Belshazzar  'tis 
thought." 

An  expression  of  the  deepest  anguish  slowly  spread  itself 
over  the  prince's  dark,  passionate  countenance.  He  paled  from 
dismay  and  anger.  He  received  the  first  portion  of  Iddin's  tid- 
ings with  calm  sorrow.  Something  of  that  nature  had  been 
expected,  but  to  think  of  Orma  as  being  in  the  power  of  the 
dissolute  Belshazzar  was  maddening.  His  first  impulse  was 
to  ride  directly  to  Babylon  and  rescue  her.  He  would  face  all 
his  enemies  combined  rather  than  have  harm  befall  one  silken 
hair  of  her  precious  head.  The  expected  attack  forbade  such 
knight-errantry.  He  must  bear  his  pain  and  sorrow  until  the 
enemy  was  beaten. 

He  turned  silently  and  led  the  way  into  camp.  He  passed 
directly  to  his  own  tent,  followed  closely  by  Iddin.  When  they 
were  alone  in  the  tent  he  demanded  all  the  details  of  Orma's 
misfortune. 

"I  can  give  thee  very  little  information,  sir.  All  I  know  is 
this:  Heber  visited  his  home  yesterday  and  found  only  his 
broken-hearted  father.  From  him  he  learned  of  his  sister's 
disappearance.  She  was  summoned  to  the  Hanging  Gardens 
to  meet  the  queen  and  has  not  since  returned.  Thou  knowest, 
sir,  what  is  located  at  the  gardens.  Inquiries  at  the  palace  re- 
vealed the  message  to  be  false.  Nitocris  denies  sending  it,  and 
it  is  thought  the  message  came  from  Belshazzar  as  she  has  men- 
tioned her  fear  of  him  several  times.  Those  are  the  facts,  as 
far  as  known.  The  queen  has  promised  to  assist  in  discover- 
ing and  rescuing  her." 

"Oh  that  I  were  in  Babylon!"  cried  the  prince  in  agonized 
tones.  He  was  pacing  excitedly  up  and  down  the  tent. 

"What  can  I  do,  Iddin?  Must  I  stay  here  and  fight  for 
myself  while  she  is  dishonored?" 

"It  is  a  hard  question,  sir,"  replied  the  young  man,  genuinely 
sorrowful  because  of  his  friend's  trouble,  "but  thou  canst  not 
go  at  this  time.  Thou  wouldst  ride  alone  straight  in  the  arms 
of  the  men  sent  to  take  thee." 


270  RHESA 

"True,  true,"  said  Sheshbazzar  sorrowfully.  "There  is  noth- 
ing for  me  to  do  but  to  stay  here  and  defend  mine  own  safety 
while  her  soul  cries  out  to  mine  to  come  to  her." 

He  paced  back  and  forth,  up  and  down,  clenching  and  un- 
clenching his  hands  in  an  agony  of  despair.  All  thoughts  of 
conquest,  of  glory,  of  ambition  were  gone.  His  beloved  needed 
him  and  he  could  not  go  to  her.  Iddin  stood  by  deeply  sym- 
pathizing with  his  friend  and  prince,  but  with  his  mind  full 
of  plans  for  resisting  the  forces  that  would  surely  attack  the 
camp  by  the  following  morning  and  it  was  now  nearly  noon. 
At  last  he  deemed  it  best  to  interrupt  Sheshbazzar's  mood. 

"Hast  thou  any  orders  to  give  in  regard  to  strengthening  the 
camp?"  he  asked. 

Thus  called  to  himself  the  prince  sat  down  and  for  a  few 
moments  concentrated  his  thought  upon  the  subject  Iddin  sug- 
gested. In  a  short  time  he  arose  and  outlined  to  his  assistant  a 
complete  plan  of  defence.  The  two  men  at  once  left  the  tent 
to  put  their  plan  into  operation.  The  remainder  of  the  day 
was  spent  by  all  in  strengthening  the  camp.  The  chief  defense 
consisted  in  a  bulwark  completely  surrounding  the  camp.  This 
they  erected  by  felling  trees  and  piling  the  logs  one  upon 
another,  using  the  limbs  to  form  a  rude  abatis-like  pile  out- 
side. Before  retiring  for  the  night  a  double  line  of  sentries 
was  placed  completely  around  the  camp.  Spies  who  had  been 
out  since  morning  returned  with  the  information  that  the 
cavalry  had  arrived  and  gone  into  camp  beside  the  infantry. 

Every  man  under  Sheshbazzar's  command  was  astir  at  sun- 
rise the  following  morning.  Breakfast  was  hastily  dispatched 
and  the  final  preparations  for  the  defense  began.  All  the  avail- 
able arrows  were  distributed  to  the  archers,  and  they  were  sent 
to  their  places  under  strict  injunctions  not  to  shoot  until  the 
enemy  was  close  at  hand  and  then  to  make  every  arrow  tell. 
Next  the  horsemen  were  armed  with  spears  and  sent  to  back  the 
archers.  The  horses  were  corralled  in  the  center  of  the  camp 
and  a  few  soldiers  were  left  in  charge  of  them. 

Sheshbazzar,   clad   in   complete  battle   array  with   a  heavy 


THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP  271 

sword  in  his  hand,  walked  back  and  forth  inside  the  outer 
barricades  enjoining  his  men  to  save  their  arrows  and  not  shoot 
until  the  enemy  was  close  upon  them.  He  and  he  alone  knew 
that  every  arrow  they  possessed  was  in  the  quivers  of  the  men. 
On  this  account  he  exhorted  his  spearmen  to  stand  firm. 

All  was  in  readiness  to  resist  the  expected  attack.  The 
scouts  kept  dropping  in  one  by  one,  all  bringing  the  same  infor- 
mation; the  enemy  was  forming  his  lines  for  the  advance  and 
was  liable  to  start  at  any  moment.  They  were  evidently  to 
attack  in  time  honored  fashion,  in  three  columns  precipitated 
at  three  different  points.  Sheshbazzar  sent  the  word  on  to 
Iddin  who  commanded  on  the  north  and  to  Belmurda  on  the 
east.  The  defenders  stood  thus  in  their  places  ready  for  in- 
stant service  for  more  than  two  hours  while  the  attackers  leis- 
urely formed  their  lines.  Sure  of  success  they  felt  no  need  for 
haste.  At  length  shortly  before  noon,  the  lookouts  in  the  edge 
of  the  woods  reported  the  columns  to  be  in  motion. 

"They  are  coming,"  was  the  cry  passed  along  the  lines  and 
sent  by  messengers  to  the  other  commanders. 

Fretting  and  fuming  the  archers  knelt  behind  their  barricades, 
peering  through  the  fallen  trees  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  enemy. 
On  they  came  in  solid  formation,  advancing  slowly  but  in  per- 
fect order.  They  plunged  through  the  canal  keeping  their 
ranks  as  on  dress  parade.  The  defenders  could  but  admire  the 
perfect  order  and  discipline. 

"Wait,  wait,"  the  officers  of  the  camp  were  continually  call- 
ing to  their  men. 

On,  on,  came  the  advancing  hosts.  The  archers  behind  the 
barricades  had  their  long  bronze-headed  arrows  in  place;  only 
a  pull  of  the  bowstring  remained.  Steadily  the  king's  troops 
kept  on.  Moments  passed,  the  defenders  impatiently  awaiting 
the  moment  of  contact.  Still  the  enemy  marched  forward. 
The  prince  noted  with  surprise  that  the  troops  opposing  his  own 
line  consisted  entirely  of  footmen.  He  judged  that  the  cavalry 
would  attack  in  another  quarter.  Not  an  arrow  had  yet  been 
exchanged.  Both  sides  were  waiting  for  a  desperate  encounter 


272  RHESA 

at  short  range.  At  last,  when  the  advancing  line  had  broken 
into  squads  to  work  their  way  through  the  trees,  Sheshbazzar 
gave  the  order  to  shoot. 

The  bowstrings  clanged  and  two  hundred  carefully  aimed 
arrows  flew  into  the  ranks  of  the  king's  troops,  a  deadly  shower. 
Men  fell  in  the  foremost  ranks.  Their  companions,  many  of 
them  wounded,  hesitated  a  moment.  Their  return  fire  was 
scattering  and  of  little  effect.  While  they  faltered  a  second 
volley  was  sent  into  them.  The  first  line  broke  and  fell  back 
upon  the  second,  which  in  turn  broke  and  before  the  officers 
could  restrain  them,  the  entire  body  was  in  full  retreat,  fol- 
lowed by  showers  of  arrows  from  the  elated  archers  of  Shesh- 
bazzar. For  the  moment  the  victory  was  with  the  forces  of 
the  prince. 

The  battle  was  not  yet  over.  By  the  time  the  retreating 
forces  reached  the  level  plain  beyond  the  swamp  the  officers  suc- 
ceeded in  controlling  them  and  the  men  silently,  shamefacedly 
turned  about  to  take  their  places  in  the  ranks.  An  hour  later 
the  reformed  columns  began  their  second  advance  upon  the 
camp.  As  before  the  defenders  withheld  their  arrows  until 
the  advancing  enemy  was  close  at  hand.  Then  a  shower  of 
well  aimed  missiles  spread  death  and  dismay  among  the  at- 
tackers. The  target  practice  was  showing  its  value.  Again 
the  enemy  hesitated  but  spurred  on  by  the  officers,  themselves 
towers  of  might,  they  plunged  forward  into  the  showers  of 
death-dealing  arrows.  On  through  the  woods  they  came,  a 
broken  zigzagging  line.  They  stumbled  over  roots  and  stones 
only  to  rise  and  rush  forward  again.  Almost  to  the  barricade 
they  came,  but  at  a  soft  word  of  command  from  the  prince, 
the  defending  archers  arose  from  their  knees  and  sent  a  single 
well  directed  volley  into  the  very  faces  of  their  opponents,  re- 
ceiving in  return  a  scattering  fire  that  worked  little  harm. 
Every  arrow  in  that  flight  had  been  aimed  at  an  individual 
target  and  the  result  was  more  than  the  nerves  of  the  king's 
soldiers  could  withstand.  A  second  time  they  faltered  and  to 
falter  so  near  their  opponents  meant  death.  Another  volley 


THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP  273 

from  the  prince's  archers  sent  them  backward  and  in  another 
moment  they  broke  and  fled  precipitately.  Sheshbazzar's  men 
were  eager  to  give  chase  but  their  leader  restrained  them.  De- 
fensive warfare  he  felt  to  be  his  only  salvation,  protected  as 
were  his  men  by  the  barricades. 

The  second  rout  of  the  attacking  force  was  so  complete  that 
the  prince  judged  he  would  have  a  considerable  breathing  spell 
before  again  being  attacked.  Therefore,  after  ordering  out  de- 
tails of  his  men  to  attend  the  enemy's  wounded,  he  left  his  own 
post  to  visit  the  other  sides  of  the  camp  and  see  how  matters 
fared  with  his  assistants.  He  had  hardly  left  the  barricade  when 
he  met  messengers  from  Iddin  and  Belmurda  asking  for  assist- 
ance, if  the  men  could  be  spared. 

The  prince  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  a  company  of  spear- 
men and  hastened  across  the  camp  toward  the  barricade  de- 
fended by  Iddin.  On  the  way  he  passed  the  reserves  under 
Nebogurza  drawn  up  in  line  ready  to  reinforce  whoever  needed 
them.  These  he  ordered  to  the  support  of  Belmurda.  He 
found  Iddin  hard  pressed.  The  forest  directly  in  front  of  this 
barricade  was  so  dense  that  the  archers  of  Iddin  had  been  unable 
to  inflict  any  damage  upon  the  king's  troops  until  they  were 
directly  before  them.  Before  they  could  stay  the  advance  of 
the  regulars  they  had  leaped  upon  the  parapet  of  the  barri- 
cade. A  desperate  hand-to-hand  conflict  ensued,  in  the  midst  of 
which  Iddin,  seeing  his  men  gradually  giving  ground  to  the  in- 
vaders, sent  for  help. 

The  added  strength  of  an  hundred  fresh  men  and  the  example 
of  Sheshbazzar's  personal  valor  turned  the  tide  of  defeat  at  the 
supreme  moment  of  the  encounter.  The  prince  sprang  into  the 
midst  of  the  conflict  and  wielded  his  great  sword  with  super- 
human strength.  Right  and  left  and  back  and  forth  it  flashed, 
bearing  all  before  it.  When  the  king's  troops  gave  way  before 
the  terrible  onslaught,  Sheshbazzar  and  his  men  leaped  over 
the  fortifications  and  pressed  the  attackers  slowly  backward 
until  they  were  without  the  belt  of  woods.  The  battle  among 
the  trees  was  terrific  while  it  lasted.  It  was  every  man  for  him- 


274  RHESA 

self  and  the  slaughter  was  frightful.  At  length  the  scattered 
remains  of  the  well  trained  band  of  soldiery  composing  the  at- 
tacking column  withdrew  in  fairly  good  order,  leaving  their 
dead  and  wounded  comrades  behind  them.  The  defenders  had 
also  lost  heavily  and  the  prince  sighed  as  the  battle-scarred  rem- 
nant of  his  force  gathered  about  him. 

In  the  meantime  disaster  had  fallen  upon  Belmurda  and  Ne- 
bogurza.  The  enemy  was  completely  victorious  upon  that  side 
of  the  camp  and  captured  many  prisoners  beside  a  large  propor- 
tion of  the  prince's  stores  and  horses.  Upon  hearing  of  this  dis- 
aster Sheshbazzar  and  Iddin  hurried  across  the  camp  with  their 
little  band  to  attack  the  successful  column,  but  it  was  too  late. 
While  his  men  at  the  western  side  of  the  enclosure  were  engaged 
in  caring  for  the  wounded  the  cavalry  made  a  sudden  dash, 
overrode  the  force  at  the  gateway  and  entered  the  camp.  They 
were  in  absolute  control  of  the  entire  southern  and  western  sides 
of  the  enclosure. 

The  survivors  of  Sheshbazzar's  force  gathered  near  the  cen- 
ter of  the  camp,  behind  a  row  of  tents,  a  pitiable  remnant  of 
the  band  that  had  twice  sent  the  flower  of  Babylon's  army  rush- 
ing pell-mell  down  the  slope.  A  hasty  consultation  was  held. 
The  prince  realized  himself  completely  defeated  and  was  striv- 
ing to  think  of  some  means  to  save  the  brave  fellows  who  had 
that  day  fought  for  him  so  gallantly. 

"I  have  a  plan,  sir,  but  there  is  not  time  for  me  to  outline 
it,"  said  Iddin.  "Wilt  thou  give  me  command  over  all,  includ- 
ing thyself,  for  the  next  few  moments?" 

"If  in  thy  judgment  thy  plan  will  succeed  I  stand  ready  to 
obey  thy  orders,"  said  the  prince. 

Notwithstanding  the  gravity  of  the  moment  Iddin  ordered 
his  chief  around  in  a  playful  manner.  Acting  under  these  orders 
Sheshbazzar  removed  the  costly  clothing  Cyrus  had  given  him 
and  in  its  place  donned  that  of  a  private  soldier,  Iddin  mean- 
while assuming  the  vestments  his  leader  threw  off.  In  a  mo- 
ment the  rab  mag's  son  stood  attired  as  a  prince. 

"Prince,"  he  said,  turning  to  Sheshbazzar,  "thine  is  the  life 


THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  CAMP  275 

which  must  be  saved.  There  is  yet  time  for  thee  to  seek  shelter 
in  the  woods.  I  and  all  the  men  that  remain  to  us  will  make  a 
dash  for  liberty." 

Leading  his  chief  to  one  side  the  young  man  whispered  in  his 
ear:  "Farewell,  my  prince.  May  the  gods  keep  thee  out  of 
the  hands  of  thine  enemies.  Twice  hast  thou  doubted  me; 
doubt  me  not  this  time." 

"Nay,  Iddin,  thou  hast  proven  thy  faithfulness  today.  De- 
feated though  I  am  now,  there  may  yet  come  a  time  when 
success  will  crown  my  efforts.  Then  I  shall  not  forget  thy 
devotion." 

A  soldier  came  leading  Saru.  Iddin  leaped  upon  the  back 
of  his  commander's  favorite. 

"Farewell,  prince,"  he  cried. 

He  rode  to  the  head  of  the  little  band  who  were  mounted 
for  the  dash.  He  gave  the  word  to  start.  Sheshbazzar  watched 
them  as  they  departed  upon  their  mad  venture.  Then  with  a 
sad  heart  he  turned  and  walked  slowly  away.  He  vaulted  the 
barricade  and  hurried  on  to  the  woods.  Once  hidden  amid  the 
undergrowth  he  paused  and  looked  about  him.  Close  at  hand 
was  a  tall  poplar  whose  top  lifted  itself  high  above  the  sur- 
rounding trees.  Slowly  and  laboriously  he  worked  his  way 
up  the  trunk  and  then  branch  by  branch  until  he  reached  a  posi- 
tion from  which  he  could  command  a  view  of  the  surrounding 
country. 

He  saw  his  faithful  friend  emerge  from  the  gateway  followed 
closely  by  the  others.  They  were  rushing  at  a  mad  gallop. 
Close  behind  them  rode  a  body  of  cavalry  in  hot  pursuit.  Down 
through  the  swamp  they  rushed,  Iddin  well  in  advance,  placed 
there  by  Saru's  long  strides.  As  they  turned  toward  the  south 
the  observer  saw  a  body  of  cavalry,  which  up  to  this  time  had 
been  standing  in  reserve,  start  off  in  a  diagonal  direction  to 
head  off  the  little  band.  Iddin  swerved  suddenly  to  the  left 
to  escape  this  new  force,  and  as  he  did  so  dashed  almost  into 
the  arms  of  a  company  of  archers  and  spearmen  who  seemed  to 
rise  from  the  ground  by  magic.  Sheshbazzar  felt  rather  than 


276  RHESA 

saw  the  volley  of  arrows  that  was  hurled  at  his  friends,  but  he 
could  see  Iddin  waver  in  his  saddle  a  moment  and  then  fall, 
Saru  keeping  on  his  mad  career. 

"Ah,  Iddin,"  murmured  the  prince,  his  voice  choked  with 
emotion,  "thou  hast  indeed  proven  thy  faithfulness." 

Could  he  have  been  present  at  the  fatal  spot  further  proof 
of  the  young  man's  devotion  would  have  been  shown  him.  He 
would  have  heard  the  officer  who  caught  the  falling  hero,  cry 
in  his  ear:  "Where  is  Sheshbazzar?"  and  he  would  have  heard 
the  pale  lips  of  the  dying  man  murmur,  "I — I  am  Sheshbazzar." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

A  DEFIANCE  AND  A  PROPHECY 

Early  the  following  morning  an  officer  presented  himself  at 
the  royal  palace  in  Babylon  and  demanded  instant  audience 
with  the  king.  The  servants  had  received  orders  concerning 
him  and  consequently  admitted  him  to  the  royal  presence  imme- 
diately. Both  monarchs  greeted  him  most  cordially. 

"Well  Nergalmakin,  what  news  bringest  thou?"  asked  Na- 
bonidos. 

"News  of  the  best,  O  King,"  replied  the  soldier. 

"Make  thy  report,"  commanded  the  monarch. 

"We  attacked  the  camp  of  the  rebels  at  noon  yesterday  and 
after  a  terrible  battle  lasting  more  than  three  hours  we  gained 
their  camp  and  all  it  contained." 

"Including  Sheshbazzar?"  cried  Vulmaran  who  was  present 
as  usual. 

"I  am  coming  to  that  presently,"  replied  the  officer  with 
some  dignity. 

"When  we  thought  we  were  in  complete  control  of  the  camp 
and  began  our  search  for  the  chief  rebel  we  were  surprised  to 
see  him  dash  from  behind  a  group  of  huts  followed  by  fifty 
or  more  of  his  men.  So  completely  had  this  move  surprised  us 


A  DEFIANCE  AND  A  PROPHECY  277 

that  he  had  left  the  camp  before  we  could  prevent  him.  I 
ordered  a  body  of  horsemen  in  instant  pursuit  and  as  soon  as 
the  escaping  enemy  was  seen  our  reserves  started  to  head  him 
off.  In  turning  to  escape  the  reserves  he  ran  into  a  body  of 
footmen  who  made  short  work  of  the  band,  the  horsemen  arriv- 
ing in  time  to  assist.  Not  a  man  of  them  escaped.  There  is 
but  one  incident  to  regret.  The  man  we  were  sent  to  capture 
was  killed  by  an  arrow  but  before  he  died  he  acknowledged 
himself  to  be  Sheshbazzar." 

"Thy  news  is  welcome,"  said  Nabonidos.  "Thou  hast  done 
well  and  as  a  reward  we  appoint  thee  to  command  the  last 
division  of  our  army  which  leaves  at  daybreak  tomorrow  for 
Sippara." 

The  newly-made  general  bowed  low  out  of  gratitude  for  his 
great  promotion.  He  still  remained  to  receive  such  orders  as 
the  king  had  for  him. 

"What  didst  thou  with  the  body  of  this  man?"  asked  Vul- 
maran. 

"We  brought  it  with  us  under  guard,"  answered  the  officer. 

"Bid  it  be  brought  here  immediately,"  commanded  the  king. 
"I  long  to  look  upon  that  face  and  realize  that  this  nightmare 
which  has  haunted  me  all  my  life  is  at  last  over.  Sheshbazzar 
dead!  Ha,  my  son,  now  thou  canst  rule  in  peace.  Who  can 
now  arise  to  claim  thy  throne?  The  line  of  Nebuchadnezzar 
is  at  last  extinct.  What  joy  this  news  will  bring  to  thy  mother, 
Belshazzar." 

Belshazzar  sat  moody  and  depressed.  Now  that  his  rival 
was  really  out  of  the  way,  he  felt  little  joy.  The  king  business 
was  not  as  pleasant  as  he  had  pictured  it.  Then  too,  his  lack 
of  success  in  wooing  the  caged  Jewess  made  him  morose. 

"Father,"  he  cried  as  he  saw  four  soldiers  enter  carrying  a 
ghastly  burden,  "I  will  retire.  I  cannot  look  upon  the  face  of 
this  man.  I  once  loved  him  as  my  teacher." 

The  elder  monarch  frowned  but  said  nothing  and  Belshazzar 
left  the  room  by  a  private  door. 

The  soldiers  advanced  slowly  across  the  apartment  and  at 


278  RHESA 

last  placed  their  burden  at  the  king's  feet.  The  body  rested 
upon  a  rude  litter  and  was  hidden  from  view  by  a  robe. 

"Remove  that  covering  that  I  may  gaze  upon  the  face  of 
mine  enemy,"  commanded  the  king. 

The  robe  was  pulled  down  revealing  the  form  of  Iddin  clad 
in  the  attire  of  Sheshbazzar.  As  the  features  were  uncovered 
a  piercing  shriek  burst  from  Vulmaran  and  he  tottered  back- 
wards. 

"Oh,  Merodach,"  he  cried,  "it  is  my  son,  my  son." 

"Ye  fools,"  cried  the  king,  "yonder  body  is  not  that  of  Shesh- 
bazzar. Take  that  beggar  away  and  throw  him  into  the  river." 

"Beggar  indeed,"  cried  Vulmaran,  facing  the  king  defiantly. 
"I  tell  thee  yonder  body  is  my  son,  Iddin." 

"Is  this  my  reward?"  he  continued.  "Is  this  the  return  I  get 
for  my  years  of  faithful  service,  for  the  crimes  I  have  com- 
mitted at  thy  instigation.  To  hear  my  only  son  called  a  beggar 
and  his  body  consigned  to  the  river. 

"I  have  served  thee  long  and  well,  King  Nabonidos.  I  made 
thee  king  and  my  brains  alone  have  kept  thee  on  thy  throne. 
One  word  from  me  and  this  prince  who  has  again  escaped  thee 
would  at  this  moment  be  seated  upon  thy  throne.  My  services 
with  thee  are  over,  O  King.  I  leave  to  join  some  enemy  of 
thine,  I  care  not  who.  I  shall  seek  out  the  brave  young  prince 
and  assist  him  in  winning  the  throne  that  by  law  is  his,  but  I 
fear  it  is  too  late.  The  Persian  will  have  thee  by  the  throat 
ere  the  month  of  Tammuz  is  past. 

"King  Nabonidos,  thou  art  a  fool,  a  doting  fool  and  thy  son 
is  a  lustful  imbecile.  Dame  Babylon,  thou  art  indeed  to  be 
pitied  with  two  such  kings  to  govern  thee.  One  were  bad 
enough,  Bel  knows;  but  two!  What  damage  the  one  cannot 
do  the  other  will. 

"Cursed  be  me  that  ever  for  one  moment  I  opposed  this  noble 
young  man  who  by  all  the  laws  should  be  our  king.  Ah,  Baby- 
lon, had  Vulmaran  loved  thee  more  and  himself  less  how  differ- 
ent might  be  thy  future.  Unborn  generations  shall  curse  Na- 
bonidos and  execrate  Belshazzar  but  they  will  not  spare  Vul- 


A  DEFIANCE  AND  A  PROPHECY  279 

maran.  He  is  more  responsible.  He  had  the  power  to  place 
thy  rightful  sovereign  upon  the  throne  and  give  thee  new  life. 
Too  late!  Too  late!  Thou  must  become  the  unwilling  mis- 
tress of  the  barbarian.  Thy  gilded  halls  shall  be  thronged  with 
leathern-breeched  men,  thy " 

"Who  is  it  thus  prophesies?"  inquired  a  low  but  heavy  voice. 

Both  Vulmaran  and  the  king  turned  toward  the  speaker. 
They  beheld  a  man  not  unknown  to  both.  The  newcomer  was 
Daniel,  the  Hebrew  prophet. 

"Thy  words  are  sound,  Vulmaran,"  he  continued.  "Who 
can  say  this  proud  city  deservest  not  the  doom  God  hath  in  store 
for  her? 

"I  am  come  to  see  thee,  O  King,"  he  said,  turning  to  the 
monarch,  "upon  a  matter  of  the  greatest  importance.  A  Jewish 
maiden,  the  daughter  of  a  princely  line  has  been  lured  from  her 
home  by  means  of  a  false  message  from  thy  queen  and  is  kept 
a  prisoner.  It  is  believed  thine  own  son  is  the  man  guilty  of 
the  crime.  I  am  come  to  beg  thee  to  restore  the  maiden  to  her 
kindred  and  set  thy  son  aright  that  he  commit  not  his  soul  to 
perdition." 

"Daniel,"  said  the  king  sternly,  "were  it  not  for  the  great 
respect  all  men  have  for  thee  I  would  order  thee  into  our  dun- 
geons for  bringing  such  an  accusation  against  our  son  and  thy 
king.  'Twere  beneath  me  to  interfere  in  such  matters.  All  I 
would  reproach  him  for  would  be  his  choice.  With  all  the 
fair  of  Babylon  to  choose  from,  why  should  he  seek  a  Jewess? 
Supposing  however  his  tastes  fall  in  that  direction,  what  have 
I  to  do  with  so  trivial  a  matter  as  a  Jewess  maiden's  virtue? 
Better  for  her  to  lose  it  to  a  king  than  to  a  slave  of  her  own 
race." 

The  stern  features  of  the  great  prophet  grew  dark  as  he  lis- 
tened to  these  careless  words.  In  tones  calm  and  dispassionate 
yet  full  of  the  deepest  displeasure,  he  made  answer. 

"Thine  own  tongue  does  thee  a  wrong,  King  Nabonidos. 
The  virtue  of  a  Jewish  maiden  is  dearer  to  her  than  life  itself, 
and  she  will  sacrifice  her  life  rather  than  lose  it.  Thou  canst 


280  RHESA 

ill  afford,  O  King,  in  this  dark  hour  of  thy  nation's  history  to 
countenance  such  an  act.  In  the  name  of  my  God,  Jehovah 
of  the  Hebrews,  I  demand  that  this  maiden  be  restored  unstained 
to  her  friends." 

"Peace,  worthy  Daniel.  I  may  have  erred  in  my  speech,  but 
never  have  I  seen  so  much  stir  made  over  a  woman's  honor. 
Thrice  has  my  queen  sought  my  couch  and  into  my  waking  ears 
poured  such  a  storm  as  I  have  not  heard  before  these  many 
years.  I  will  question  Belshazzar  but  remember,  if  he  give  not 
up  the  maid  of  his  own  will  I  shall  not  press  him.  He  is  the 
king  and  is  answerable  to  none." 

"King  Nabonidos,"  answered  the  man  of  God,  "thy  son,  yea 
and  thyself  also,  are  answerable  to  one  whose  mighty  will  shall 
be  seen  ere  many  suns  gild  yonder  temple  summit.  Listen, 
King.  Last  night  the  Lord  showed  unto  his  servant,  Daniel, 
a  vision  and  made  known  unto  him  the  interpretation  thereof. 
I  looked  and  behold  a  horseman  came  out  of  the  north.  I 
looked  upon  his  face  and  saw  it  pale,  pale  as  one  who  is  dead, 
but  as  I  gazed  upon  him  I  saw  the  flush  of  life  creep  into  his 
cheeks.  I  saw  his  lips  move  and  I  listened  unto  the  words  that 
he  spake  and  they  were  words  of  doom  unto  this  city. 

"Now  listen,  O  King,  while  I  unfold  unto  thee  the  meaning 
of  this  dream.  The  pale  horseman  is  a  messenger  who  shall 
come  to  thee  from  the  north.  His  face  being  pale  unto  death 
denotes  him  as  one  coming  from  the  grave;  the  blush  of  life 
mounting  into  his  cheeks  shows  the  one  supposedly  dead  return- 
ing unto  life.  The  words  he  spake  signify  the  message  he  will 
bring. 

"Should  such  a  messenger  come  unto  thee,  O  King,  I  warn 
thee,  do  him  no  injury.  Let  him  depart  as  he  came  or  receive 
him  as  an  honored  guest  and  thy  life  shall  be  spared." 

During  Daniel's  brief  narrative  of  his  dream  and  the  inter- 
pretation thereof  Nabonidos  sat  quietly  gazing  into  the  pro- 
phet's face.  The  countenance  of  the  king  was  pale,  his  hands 
clasped  tightly  the  miniature  lion  heads  that  adorned  the  arms 


A  DEFIANCE  AND  A  PROPHECY  281 

of  his  throne.  His  whole  attitude  showed  the  deep  impression 
the  prophet's  words  were  making.  As  Daniel  finished  speak- 
ing the  king  answered  him. 

"Thou  art  indeed  a  wonderful  man,  O  Daniel,  for  know  that 
the  vision  thou  sawest  was  seen  by  me  also  and  much  has  it 
troubled  me  since.  I  give  thee  my  word  should  such  a  strange 
messenger  as  we  have  seen  in  our  dreams  come  unto  me  I  will 
receive  him  as  my  guest. 

"As  to  this  girl,"  he  continued,  "I  pledge  myself  she  shall  be 
returned  to  her  friends." 

Daniel  bowed  a  silent  acknowledgment  of  the  monarch's 
promise  and  turned  to  depart.  As  he  turned  his  eye  fell  upon, 
the  corpse  of  Iddin  which  lay  where  the  soldiers  had  placed  it. 
The  grief  stricken  father  knelt  beside  the  litter,  his  lips  pressed 
against  his  son's  cold  hand. 

"Ah,  Vulmaran,"  said  the  prophet,  placing  one  hand  upon 
the  kneeling  man's  shoulder,  "mourn  not  for  this,  thy  son.  His 
eyes  shall  not  witness  the  terrible  scenes  that  are  coming.  Thou 
shalt  see  them  but  only  for  a  moment." 

Without  another  word  Daniel  left  the  room.  When  he  had 
gone,  Vulmaran  arose  and  again  faced  the  king  to  continue  his 
tirade.  The  king  turned  to  the  soldier  who  had  been  a  silent 
witness  of  the  interesting  scene  just  closed.  "Nergalmakin,  it 
is  evident  a  mistake  has  been  made.  This  body  is  not  that  of 
Sheshbazzar,"  he  said. 

"So  it  appears  but  King  Nabonidos,  I  am  convinced  that 
the  rebellious  prince  is  dead.  We  made  strict  search  through- 
out the  camp  and  surroundings,  and  I  am  sure  not  a  man  es- 
caped us.  If  Prince  Sheshbazzar  was  in  the  camp  he  is  dead." 

"May  the  gods  so  grant.  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  was 
killed  early  in  the  engagement  and  this  man  Iddin  impersonated 
him  in  order  to  continue  the  rebellion,"  said  the  king. 

Again  Vulmaran  turned  to  berate  the  king  but  the  monarch 
forestalled  him. 

"Spare  me,  Vulmaran.    Take  the  body  of  thy  son  and  give  it 


282  RHESA 

decent  burial.  I  regret  this  mistake  but  thou  must  remember 
he  lost  his  life  while  fighting  against  his  country,"  said  Naboni- 
dos,  not  unkindly. 

"Not  against  his  country,  but  against  the  usurper  of  his 
country's  throne,"  cried  the  half  crazed  rab  mag. 

"Say  no  more,"  commanded  the  king,  "thou  wouldst  have 
slain  me  as  thou  slewest  Laborosoarchod  couldst  thou  have  won 
my  throne  thereby.  Go  I  command  thee  while  I  am  in  a  lenient 
mood.  Stay  not  until  the  spell  caused  by  yonder  mysterious 
man's  wonderful  words  shall  have  left  me,  for  then  I  may  order 
thee  into  custody  for  thy  words  of  treason.  Go,  Sheshbaz- 
zar  is  dead  and  I  therefore  give  thee  thy  life,  but  go  at  once." 

The  rab  mag  motioned  to  the  soldiers  to  take  up  the  litter. 
As  they  approached  he  tenderly  covered  his  son's  face  with  the 
robe.  At  the  threshold  he  turned  and  called  loudly :  "May  the 
curses  of  the  gods  rest  upon  thee  and  thy  crazy  son,  King 
Nabonidos." 

When  at  last  the  king  found  himself  alone  he  arose  and 
paced  up  and  down  the  apartment,  absorbed  in  deep  thought. 
The  vision  seen  by  both  Daniel  and  himself  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  him  and  added  to  this  was  the  supposed  death 
of  Sheshbazzar  which  Nabonidos  believed  an  assured  fact,  not- 
withstanding that  it  was  not  the  prince's  body  which  had  been 
so  carefully  brought  to  Babylon. 

"Ah,  Prince  Sheshbazzar,"  he  cried,  "has  this  mad  business 
indeed  cost  thy  country  its  greatest  soldier  and  thy  king  the 
only  honest  man  upon  whom  he  could  lean?  Tyrant  and  usur- 
per thou  hast  called  me,  but  thou  little  knowest  how  true  a 
friend  I  have  been  to  thee  all  through." 


THE  MESSENGER  283 

CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE    MESSENGER 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  tenth  day  of  June,  B.C., 
538,  a  horseman,  mounted  upon  a  superb  black  horse,  was  gal- 
loping toward  Babylon  with  all  the  speed  his  noble  beast  could 
put  forth.  The  animal's  flanks  and  sides  were  flecked  with 
foam,  his  nostrils  were  dilated  and  his  eyes  had  a  wild  look, 
but  he  sped  onward  in  long  regular  strides.  His  rider  was 
dressed  as  a  soldier  but  was  entirely  without  arms.  He  wore 
no  helmet,  his  long  black  hair  streaming  in  the  wind,  a  wavy 
cloud.  He  sat  immovable,  one  hand  upon  the  horse's  mane  and 
he  leaned  far  over  on  the  animal's  neck  to  minimize  the  resist- 
ance to  the  wind. 

Just  before  reaching  the  great  outer  gate  of  the  city  the  flying 
horseman  sat  upright  and  waved  his  right  arm  aloft  as  a  signal 
to  the  soldier  on  guard  to  open  the  gate  for  him.  His  every 
appearance  so  denoted  an  errand  of  the  utmost  importance  that 
none  thought  of  stopping  him  for  the  required  pass.  The  great 
brazen  gates  swung  open  just  as  the  messenger  galloped  over 
the  drawbridge.  He  passed  the  half  awake  sentries  with  a 
whirl.  'Straight  on  through  the  city  he  dashed,  the  horse  in 
agony  but  still  holding  to  his  task,  until  the  outer  wall  of  the 
king's  palace  was  reached.  Here  he  drew  rein  and  dismounted. 
Hardly  had  his  feet  touched  the  pavement  when  his  noble  steed 
uttered  a  low  groan,  fell  to  the  ground  and  in  a  moment  was 
dead.  The  rider  gave  his  faithful  friend  a  long  loving  look 
and  then  hurried  on  to  the  gate. 

"A  message  for  the  king,"  was  all  the  pass  he  used,  but  it 
was  sufficient.  The  three  gates  were  opened  for  him  in  succes- 
sion and  he  rushed  on  to  the  palace  entrance. 

"Call  the  king.    I  have  a  message,"  he  panted. 

Servants  ran  to  the  royal  apartments  and  in  a  few  moments 


284  RHESA 

Nabonidos  appeared  followed  by  Belshazzar,  both  attired  in 
their  night  robes. 

"Thou  hast  a  message?"  asked  the  king. 

"The  Persians  have  broken  through  our  lines  in  Accad  and 
are  marching  on  Sippara,"  cried  the  messenger. 

"By  Merodach!"  exclaimed  the  elder  monarch.  A  moment 
later  Belshazzar,  white  and  trembling,  cried  out:  "Father, 
father,  gaze  on  that  man." 

The  messenger  was  Sheshbazzar  and  the  horse  that  gave  his 
life  for  Babylon  was  Saru. 

"Ha!"  said  Nabonidos,  "is  it  thou  at  last?" 

"Yea,  O  King,  it  is  I,  but  this  is  no  time  for  private  quar- 
rels. Reinforcements  must  be  hurried  forward  or  all  is  lost. 
I  have  opposed  thee  but  now  I  am  with  thee  to  resist  the  com- 
mon foe." 

"Then  thy  cause  is  forever  lost?"  said  the  king  smiling. 

"Nay,  King  Nabonidos,"  was  the  reply.  "I  admit  myself 
beaten  for  the  time  being  but  I  cannot  give  up  all  hope  for 
the  future.  However  that  may  be  I  am  here  this  morning  to 
offer  thee  my  sword  in  defence  of  our  common  land.  The  quar- 
rel between  thee  and  me  must  not  injure  our  country.  Rather 
would  I  give  up  all  my  rights  than  see  my  beloved  Babylon  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  invader,  noble  enemy  though  he  be." 

"Nobly  spoken,  Sheshbazzar,"  said  the  monarch  magnani- 
mously, extending  his 'hand  to  his  late  foe.  "I  too  will  forget 
the  past." 

"Come,"  he  continued,  "enter  again  these  halls  where  thou 
wert  once  so  welcome.  Fear  naught  at  my  hands  but  let  us 
in  the  future  sink  all  our  differences  in  the  common  love  for 
our  country.  Let  our  only  strife  be  the  friendly  one  of  seeing 
who  can  best  serve  our  mistress,  Babylon.  I  must  leave  thee 
now  while  I  change  this  scant  attire  for  that  befitting  my  rank, 
even  though  thou  questionest  my  right  to  that  rank."  This 
last  was  said  in  pleasantry. 

Sheshbazzar  doubted  not  the  monarch's  sincerity.  His  own 
noble  mind  could  put  aside  all  personal  considerations  in  the 


THE  MESSENGER  285 

hour  of  his  nation's  peril,  and  he  gave  Nabonidos  credit  for  the 
same  feelings.  Nor  was  his  trust  misplaced.  Nabonidos,  ever 
a  slave  to  his  passing  whims,  one  moment  cruel  and  revengeful, 
the  next  indulgent,  had  decided  upon  his  present  course  of 
action  the  moment  he  recognized  the  messenger.  The  words 
of  Daniel,  coupled  with  his  natural  liking  for  the  brave  young 
soldier,  had  influenced  him  in  making  this  decision.  Thus  with 
never  a  fear  as  to  his  future  safety  the  lawful  king  followed  the 
reigning  one  into  the  great  reception  room.  Here  he  was  left 
alone  while  Nabonidos  and  Belshazzar  retired  to  their  private 
apartments. 

While  Sheshbazzar  sat  alone  in  the  spacious  throne  room  his 
mind  was  active  and  Orma  was  its  theme.  He  rapidly  consid- 
ered several  plans  of  rescue  that  suggested  themselves  to  him. 
First  he  must  ascertain  the  location  of  her  prison.  Remember- 
ing the  small  size  of  the  villa  in  the  Hanging  Gardens  he 
doubted  not  her  being  confined  there.  He  almost  decided  to 
question  Belshazzar,  trusting  to  the  power  which  a  strong  mind 
exerts  over  a  weak  one  to  cause  the  boy  king  to  divulge  the 
information.  At  this  moment  a  voice  beside  him  aroused  him 
from  his  thoughts. 

"Sir,  I  would  speak  with  thee,"  it  said. 

The  prince  turned  quickly  to  see  the  speaker.  The  man's 
attire  betokened  him  a  servant  of  the  royal  establishment,  one 
of  that  army  whose  keeping  was  always  so  severe  a  drain  upon 
the  king's  revenues.  Ninabeth,  the  overworked  financier  whose 
genius  supplied  Nabonidos  with  his  income,  once  remarked  that 
between  the  king's  household,  his  harem  and  his  immense  stud, 
the  revenues  of  the  empire  were  scarcely  sufficient  to  support 
the  royal  establishment  alone.  Small  wonder  then  that  the 
army  went  unpaid  aside  from  what  booty  they  could  obtain, 
but  even  this  usual  source  of  income  for  the  soldiers  had  been 
cut  off  during  the  present  reign,  as  Nabonidos  had  made  no  new 
conquests. 

The  servant  was  unknown  to  Sheshbazzar  and  he  must  have 
seen  this,  to  judge  from  his  next  remark. 


286  RHESA 

"Thou  knowest  me  not  but  I  know  thee.  Thou  art  Prince 
Sheshbazzar." 

"Thou  art  right;  but  what  is  it  thou  hast  to  say?" 

"I  can  tell  thee  where  is  one  whose  whereabouts  thou  wishest 
to  know." 

"What  meanest  thou?"  asked  the  prince,  starting. 

"I  speak  of  the  Jewish  maiden  who  is  held  captive  by  Bel- 
shazzar,"  answered  the  servant. 

Sheshbazzar  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Tell  me,"  he  cried  excitedly,  "where  is  her  prison?  Are 
there  bars  mine  arms  cannot  break  to  rescue  her?" 

"Hush,  sir,"  said  the  servant,  "one  must  be  careful  of  one's 
speech  within  these  walls.  She  whom  thou  wouldst  seek  is  in 
the  villa  upon  the  topmost  stage  of  the  Hanging  Gardens. 
Enter  at  the  front  and  thou  wilt  find  her  in  the  fourth  room 
upon  the  right  of  the  hall." 

"Accept  my  deepest  thanks.  I  hope  some  day  I  will  be  able 
to  reward  thee  as  thou  deservest,"  said  the  prince. 

"Reward  is  not  my  desire,"  replied  the  servant  with  an  air 
of  injured  pride. 

"What  then  prompted  thine  action?" 

"The  desire  which  every  honest  man  should  have  of  undoing 
a  wrong  act.  Against  my  will  I  was  forced  to  assist  in  her 
abduction  and  I  therefore  wish  to  do  my  part  toward  rescuing 
her.  If  I  am  needed  sir,  I  will  accompany  thee  to  the  Gardens 
and  assist  thee  further." 

"Thou  art  a  good  fellow,"  said  the  prince,  "but  I  would  not 
endanger  thee  by  accepting  thy  services.  Thou  hast  done  thy 
part;  be  mine  the  task  of  rescue." 

The  servant  deemed  the  interview  closed  and  hastily  left  the' 
room.  He  had  hardly  disappeared  through  the  main  doorway 
when  Nabonidos  entered  from  the  side.  Belshazzar,  having 
no  desire  to  meet  the  prince,  had  not  returned. 

"Thou  hast  had  no  breakfast  this  morning,  Nabomuran. 
Come  and  share  our  family  repast,"  said  the  king. 

Sheshbazzar  paid  no  heed  to  the  covert  insult  contained  in 


THE  MESSENGER  287 

the  speech  of  Nabonidos.  He  charged  his  being  called  by  his 
former  name  to  absentmindedness  rather  than  intention.  He 
was  hungry  and  gladly  followed  the  king  into  the  private  din- 
ing room. 

Nabonidos  was  right  in  terming  this  a  family  repast,  for  al- 
ready seated  about  the  table  were  Nitocris,  Halista  and  Bel- 
shazzar. 

"Queen,  thy  son;  Halista  and  Belshazzar,  thy  brother,"  said 
the  king  in  high  glee  over  the  surprise  he  was  giving  his  wife 
and  step-daughter. 

The  prince  greeted  the  queen  and  the  princess  affectionately 
but  withheld  all  courtesy  from  Belshazzar.  The  youth  indeed 
arose  to  greet  him  but  the  prince  silenced  him  at  once. 

"There  is  a  wrong  between  us,  Belshazzar,  that  no  fine  words 
can  help,"  he  said. 

The  boy  skulked  back  upon  his  seat  without  a  word.  All 
present  knew  of  the  wrong  to  which  their  guest  referred.  Na- 
bonidos, determined  that  nothing  should  mar  the  pleasure  of 
this  reunion  but  that  all  differences  should  be  put  out  of  sight, 
hastened  to  step  into  the  breach  opened  by  Sheshbazzar's 
speech. 

"We  know  whereof  thou  speakest,  Nabomuran,"  he  said, 
"and  hope  to  set  matters  aright.  This  unfortunate  affair  shall 
be  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  all." 

The  prince  made  no  reply.  He  had  little  confidence  in  any- 
thing being  done  by  the  king  and  the  slave's  information  would 
enable  him  to  rescue  Orma  himself.  He  therefore  saw  no 
object  in  keeping  the  matter  open. 

For  all  save  Belshazzar  the  meal  was  a  pleasant  one.  He 
partook  of  his  fare  in  sullen  silence  and  long  before  the  other 
members  of  the  party  finished  eating  he  arose  and  left  the  room. 
The  others  ate  and  chatted  in  the  freest  possible  manner.  No 
stranger  would  have  imagined  that  three  days  before  one  mem- 
ber of  this  happy  group  had  sent  an  armed  force  against  an- 
other with  orders  to  take  him  dead  or  alive.  To  the  ladies 
present  the  meal  was  the  happiest  they  had  known  for  months. 


288  RHESA 

Nabonidos,  knowing  his  wife  and  daughter  to  be  upon  the  side 
of  the  pretender  had  bestowed  little  courtesy  upon  them.  Of 
recent  events  in  the  prince's  life  he  had  kept  them  in  ignorance. 
To  them  this  sight  of  the  rebellious  prince  alive  and  well  and 
on  terms  of  amity  with  the  king  against  whom  he  had  waged 
war,  bordered  on  the  miraculous.  Yet  the  pleasure  was  not 
without  its  attendant  sorrow,  for  in  the  prince's  presence,  they 
read  the  total  failure  of  his  cause. 

To  the  prince  himself  it  all  seemed  a  dream,  or  rather  the 
events  of  the  past  year  seemed  a  dream  and  he  felt  as  if  noth- 
ing had  ever  come  between  him  and  his  monarch.  Gradually  a; 
different  feeling  toward  his  recently  hated  enemy  was  taking 
possession  of  his  mind.  His  long  acquaintance  with  Nabonidos 
made  him  aware  of  the  monarch's  instability  but  in  his  present 
treatment  he  saw  something  deeper  than  a  mere  passing  whim. 
Thoroughly  conversant  with  the  many  moods  of  the  king  he 
had  never  yet  known  him  to  show  so  sudden  a  revulsion  of 
feeling  towards  one  who  had  opposed  him. 

As  soon  after  the  meal  as  courtesy  allowed  Sheshbazzar  ex- 
cused himself  on  the  plea  of  visiting  his  foster-father,  Neboakhu. 
He  also  requested  the  king  to  loan  him  a  horse  from  the  royal 
stables,  explaining  as  an  excuse  how  his  own  faithful  steed  had 
given  his  life  for  Babylon.  Nabonidos  himself  led  the  way  to 
the  royal  stables  and  called  for  a  certain  horse.  The  prince  as 
a  born  horseman  gazed  with  unfeigned  admiration  upon  the 
spirited  mare  which  a  groom  led  forth.  His  surprise  was  great 
when  the  king  begged  him  to  accept  the  animal  as  a  token  of  his 
monarch's  fullest  forgiveness  for  all  that  was  past  and  as  a 
slight  payment  for  the  noble  animal  he  had  sacrificed  in  order 
to  deliver  the  message. 

"Forgiveness!"  exclaimed  the  prince.  "Am  I  to  understand 
then  that  my  cause  is  wholly  lost  and  I  am  received  back  to  my 
former  allegiance?" 

"Listen  to  me,  Nabomuran,  but  no,  I  will  call  thee  by  the 
name  thou  art  entitled  to  wear,  Sheshbazzar.  Think  of  thy 
present  position.  Thou  art  entirely  within  my  power,  I,  the 


THE  MESSENGER  289 

king  against  whom  thou  hast  rebelled  and  the  king,  I  may  add, 
who  once  condemned  thee  to  death.  Could  I  foresee  the  least 
likelihood  of  thy  being  able  to  gather  about  thee  followers 
enough  to  make  thee  dangerous  I  would  order  thee  into  prison 
at  once.  I  consider  thy  defeat  final  and  therefore  have  I  re- 
ceived thee  into  my  family  as  an  honored  son,  for  remember, 
Prince,  the  ties  of  marriage  make  me  thy  father.  Why  wilt 
thou  continue  in  thy  mad  attempt  to  gain  a  throne  which  I 
assure  thee  is  the  hardest  one  ever  man  occupied.  Rather  then, 
stay  in  my  family  and  receive  at  my  hands  honors  I  have 
planned  for  thee.  At  daybreak  tomorrow  I  start  for  Sippara 
to  make  amends,  if  it  be  not  too  late,  for  my  previous  tardiness. 
I  have  intended  taking  command  of  the  army  myself,  but  if 
thou  wilt  forego  thy  desires  for  kingship,  thou  shalt  lead  Baby- 
lon's army  against  her  foes.  More  also  have  I  in  mind  for 
thee.  When  we  have  beaten  off  the  invader  and  settle  down 
again  into  peaceful  ways  thou  shalt  be  rab  mag  of  Babylon. 
Here  are  two  pathways  open  before  thee.  The  one  is  beset 
with  hardships  and  pitfalls  and  ends  in  a  rebel's  death;  the 
other  is  one  of  ease  and  comfort  and  leads  to  honor.  Which 
wilt  thou  choose?" 

Sheshbazzar  stood  with  one  hand  upon  the  bridle  of  the 
noble  steed  the  magnanimous  monarch  had  bestowed  upon  him. 
His  head  was  bent,  his  eyes  downcast  and  in  his  mind  a  severe 
struggle  was  taking  place.  He  reviewed  the  events  so  recently 
passed  and  attempted  to  find  in  them  some  guidance  for  his 
future  action.  He  too  considered  his  cause  forever  lost.  The 
results  of  Iddin's  recruiting  had  been  a  great  disappointment 
for  he  had  expected  whole  regiments  to  flock  around  his  stand- 
ard once  it  was  raised.  The  comparative  ease  with  which  the 
troops  of  the  king  had  annihilated  his  force  was  a  bitter  dis- 
couragement. The  morning  following  the  battle,  after  the 
king's  troops  had  withdrawn  from  the  vicinity  carrying  their 
prisoners  with  them,  he  left  his  hiding  place  and  wandered  away 
from  the  spot,  alone,  disheartened.  He  sat  down  upon  the 
steps  of  the  ruined  tomb  and  remained  there  during  the  greater 


290  RHESA 

part  of  the  day.  Late  in  the  afternoon  he  noticed  a  loose  horse 
and  to  his  surprise  recognized  it  as  Saru.  He  gave  a  low 
whistle  and  the  faithful  animal  came  to  him. 

Early  in  the  evening,  while  it  was  yet  light,  he  saw  a  horse- 
man approaching  at  a  terrible  pace.  When  almost  before  the 
tomb  the  weary  horse  stumbled,  fell  and  threw  his  rider  far 
over  his  head.  Sheshbazzar  hastened  to  the  man's  assistance 
but  he  refused  all  aid.  He  declared  his  leg  to  be  broken  but 
said,  as  the  road  was  much  frequented,  some  passer-by  would 
surely  find  him.  He  then  requested  the  prince  to  carry  to  the 
king  the  message  of  defeat. 

With  never  a  question  as  to  his  own  fate,  Sheshbazzar  ac- 
cepted the  trust.  At  the  moment  he  climbed  upon  Saru's  back 
to  begin  his  all  night  ride  he  felt  that  he  renounced  all  claims  to 
royalty.  For  Babylon's  sake  he  risked  all,  fully  expecting  that 
imprisonment  and  death  would  be  his  reward.  Yet  here  was 
the  king  offering  him  honors  second  only  to  his  own.  He  could 
not  decide  upon  an  answer.  He  felt  too  that  the  sacrifices  of 
his  friends  would  be  wasted.  When  he  did  decide  it  was  his 
love  of  country,  his  desire  to  aid  her  in  her  dark  hour,  that 
caused  the  decision. 

"Come,"  urged  Nabonidos,  "what  sayest  thou?" 

"I  am  entirely  unprepared  for  such  an  offer  from  thee,  O 
King,"  he  replied.  "When  I  brought  this  message  unto  thee 
I  fully  believed  I  was  surrendering  myself.  To  have  such  gen- 
erosity shown  me  has  unnerved  me.  I  cannot  at  this  moment 
choose  between  the  paths.  I  will  go  with  thee  and  do  all  that 
lies  in  my  power  to  assist  in  defeating  our  common  enemy.  As 
to  the  rest  of  thy  generous  offer,  I  need  not  decide  until  peace 
is  won." 

"Very  true,"  replied  the  king.  "I  will  consider  it  settled 
then,  thou  art  to  command  at  Sippara." 

"As  the  king  wills,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then  return  to  the  palace  as  soon  as  possible.  There  is 
much  to  be  done  and  much  to  consider  before  night  if  we  are 
to  leave  at  daybreak." 


ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER  291 

CHAPTER  XXXVII 
ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER 

Sheshbazzar  rode  out  through  the  palace  gates  and  turned, 
his  horse's  head  toward  the  temple.  He  noticed  as  he  passed 
the  outermost  gates  that  the  body  of  Saru  had  already  been, 
removed.  He  looked  forward  with  pleasure  to  his  meeting 
with  the  old  man  who  for  so  great  a  portion  of  his  life  had 
been  as  a  father  to  him.  Not  since  the  coronation  day  of  Bel- 
shazzar  had  he  seen  the  old  priest  and  only  the  briefest  news 
of  him  had  he  received.  Aside  from  the  messages  received 
through  Iddin  no  word  had  come  from  him.  As  he  rode  out 
through  the  palace  grounds  this  invigorating  June  morning  his 
mood  was  a  joyful  one.  Disappointment  always  rests  lightly 
upon  the  head  of  youth ;  nature  has  so  decreed  it  and  it  is  well. 
Lost  ambition  must  needs  leave  its  scars  behind,  even  upon 
youth,  but  Sheshbazzar  was  of  an  optimistic  temperament. 
However  thoughts  of  what  might  have  been  detracted  consid- 
erably from  the  joy  he  felt  at  being  again  in  his  beloved  Baby- 
lon, free  to  come  and  go  as  he  wished. 

As  he  passed  the  stately  residence  of  Vulmaran  that  indi- 
vidual was  just  leaving  it.  Sheshbazzar  reined  in  his  steed  to 
greet  the  former  official.  Notwithstanding  the  injuries  re- 
ceived at  the  man's  hands  the  prince  could  not  forget  whose 
father  he  was,  that  he  was  now  mourning  for  an  only  son.  As 
he  remembered  the  heroism  of  the  dead  youth  his  noble  heart 
put  away  forever  all  feelings  of  enmity  for  the  sorrowing  father. 
It  was  some  moments  before  the  former  courtier  recognized  the 
plainly  attired  soldier  who  approached  him.  When  he  did  so 
a  smile  illuminated  his  usually  stolid  face  and  he  hurried  to 
meet  the  young  mah. 

"Ah,  Sheshbazzar,  thou  art  arrived  at  a  sorrowful  time," 
he  said  as  they  met.  "Today  all  that  remains  of  my  once  gay 
son  is  to  be  buried  with  his  ancestors  in  our  ancient  tomb." 


292  RHESA 

"Alas,"  said  the  prince  sadly,  "poor  Iddin  gave  his  life  for 
a  hopeless  cause." 

"Ah  yes,  Prince,  but  he  is  spared  the  sight  of  his  nation's 
downfall.  Tell  me,  did  he  bear  himself  well  in  thy  service?" 

The  prince  narrated  the  incidents  connected  with  his  over- 
whelming defeat.  He  spoke  sadly  and  as  he  told  of  Iddin's 
heroic  death,  his  voice  was  choked  with  emotion. 

"Alas!  alas!"  muttered  the  former  rab  mag.  "I  urged  the 
sending  of  that  force,  little  thinking  of  the  sorrow  I  was  caus- 
ing myself  thereby.  I  am  repaid.  I  deserve  it  all  as  a  punish- 
ment for  the  blind  allegiance  I  gave  yonder  tyrant.  Would 
that  Iddin's  father  had  been  with  thee,  Prince.  Ah,  Shesh- 
bazzar,  thou  shouldst  have  accepted  the  offer  I  once  made  thee. 
With  the  help  I  could  have  brought  to  thee  thou  wouldst  today 
be  King  of  Babylon." 

The  prince  shook  his  head  but  said  nothing. 

"What  services  shalt  thou  have  at  Iddin's  burial?"  asked 
the  prince  a  moment  later. 

"That  is  a  matter  which  perplexes  me.  My  son  once  told 
me  he  had  embraced  the  religion  of  the  Hebrews.  He  would 
therefore  wish  to  be  buried  according  to  their  rites." 

"Iddin  told  me  of  his  religious  views  also,"  said  the  prince. 

"What  services  have  these  Hebrews?" 

"That  I  know  not,  but  I  doubt  if  they  differ  much  from  our 
own." 

"After  all,  Prince,  what  is  there  to  do  but  put  our  loved 
ones  in  the  tomb  and  there  let  them  rot?" 

"An  ignoble  thought,  Vulmaran,"  replied  the  prince.  "To 
me  it  seems  as  though  there  must  be  a  hereafter,  something  be- 
yond the  tomb.  The  good  are  not  rewarded  nor  the  bad  pun- 
ished in  this  world.  Justice  alone  demands  another  life  where 
all  shall  receive  their  just  deserts.  At  least  a  home  in  a  cold 
tomb  is  little  to  look  forward  to." 

"True,"  answered  Vulmaran.  "It  would  be  pleasant  to  look 
forward  to  an  everlasting  life  in  a  land  where  all  is  peace  and 
quiet.  For  my  part,  Sheshbazzar,  if  there  exists  such  a  place  I 


ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER  293 

am  willing  to  leave  this  present  life  and  all  it  contains  to  seek 
that  mysterious  land  the  Medes  believe  in." 

"Nevertheless  this  is  a  grand  old  world,  Vulmaran,  and  con- 
tains much  worth  living  for,"  answered  the  prince. 

"Not  for  me,"  said  the  former  rab  mag,  sadly,  "I  have  lost 
my  son  and  mine  office  at  the  same  time.  I  am  ruined  finan- 
cially and  politically  and  I  fear  I  must  seek  a  home  elsewhere. 
Nabonidos  dare  do  me  no  harm  openly  but  I  fear  a  stab  in  the 
dark." 

"For  my  part  I  have  a  higher  opinion  of  the  king  than  I  once 
held,"  said  Sheshbazzar,  his  mind  still  filled  with  the  morn- 
ing's events. 

"I  trust  him  not.  Remember,  Sheshbazzar,  I  have  served 
him,  have  known  of  his  every  act,  have  been  an  accomplice  in 
many  of  his  crimes.  I  know  the  man  and  I  know  his  methods. 
Therefore  I  say  unto  thee  I  fear  his  vengeance.  Such  words 
as  I  yesterday  spoke  unto  him  will  not  go  unpunished.  But 
thyself!  How  comes  it  thou  art  thus  boldly  traversing  these 
streets  in  thy  true  character?  Knowest  thou  not,  there  is  a 
price  upon  thy  head?  Why  two  days  since  I  would  have  be- 
trayed thee  myself,  such  was  the  blind  allegiance  I  gave  yonder 
tyrant.  Art  thou  not  in  danger?" 

In  a  few  words  Sheshbazzar  outlined  his  present  standing- 
with  the  king. 

"Ah,  friend,  be  not  deceived.  Believe  me,  behind  that  fair 
face  and  those  pleasant  words  there  lurks  the  greatest  villain 
yet  unslain.  Remember  this:  Nabonidos  takes  not  back  into 
his  good  graces  those  who  once  lost  them." 

"He  seemeth  most  sincere." 

"I  doubt  not  he  seemeth  so,  but  as  soon  trust  thy  wife  in 
the  temple  of  Beltis  as  trust  this  king.  Remember,  I  have 
warned  thee.  If  after  my  words  thou  feelest  the  sting  of  yon- 
der viper,  thou  hast  only  thyself  to  blame." 

"I  share  not  thy  opinion,  Vulmaran,  but  nevertheless  I 
thank  thee  for  thy  warning. 


294  RHESA 

Without  another  word  he  turned  and  sprang  into  the  sad- 
dle. 

"Better  far  to  trust  Nabonidos  than  this  villain.  Ah,  Iddin, 
thou  must  have  had  a  noble  mother  whose  blood  offset  thy 
father's,  or  thy  religion  must  have  a  wonderful  power  to  change 
men,"  he  murmured  as  he  rode  away. 

"Ha,  Nabonidos,  to  spite  me  thou  takest  back  this  young 
upstart  and  heapest  honors  upon  him.  Vulmaran  is  not  dead, 
however,  nor  yet  asleep.  Thou  mayest  hear  from  him  yet," 
murmured  Vulmaran. 

Sheshbazzar  continued  his  journey  without  further  interrup- 
tion and  reached  his  old  home  just  as  Neboakhu  returned  from 
the  morning  sacrifice.  The  meeting  between  the  two  men  was 
an  affecting  one.  The  old  priest  shed  tears  of  joy  at  again, 
beholding  the  young  man  he  had  brought  up  as  his  own  son. 
Together  they  passed  into  the  house,  a  servant  taking  posses- 
sion of  the  prince's  horse.  The  old  man  shook  his  head  as 
the  younger  one  told  of  the  king's  actions  but  said  nothing  to 
show  that  he  felt  any  doubts  as  to  the  monarch's  sincerity. 
Pleasant  as  was  his  visit  in  his  old  home  Sheshbazzar  did  not 
allow  himself  to  forget  the  work  he  had  laid  out  for  the  morn- 
ing. After  a  brief  conversation  with  the  priest  he  asked  for  the 
chariot,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  vehicle  was  at  the  door, 
driven  as  usual  by  the  ever-faithful  Susa.  Sheshbazzar  bade 
the  old  man  farewell,  after  telling  him  of  the  adventure  he  was 
about  to  undertake.  A  moment  later  he  was  in  the  vehicle 
that  had  so  oft  before  carried  him  through  the  streets  of  the 
Golden  City. 

Immediately  after  the  chariot  came  to  a  stop  at  the  entrance 
to  the  Hanging  Gardens  he  alighted.  He  stopped  only  to 
order  Susa  to  remain  until  he  returned;  adding,  if  he  did  not 
return  within  a  reasonable  time  the  driver  should  consider 
some  harm  had  befallen  him  and  procure  assistance.  These  in- 
junctions Susa  promised  to  obey  faithfully.  The  prince  then 
began  his  long  climb  to  the  top  of  Nebuchadnezzar's  stately 
pile.  He  was  not  apprehensive  of  danger,  but  to  guard  against 


ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER  295 

the  unexpected  he  carried  a  pair  of  handsome  daggers  (part  of 
the  equipment  furnished  him  by  King  Cyrus)  slipped  inside  his 
girdle.  He  had  no  eyes  for  the  beauties  of  the  fairyland  about 
him  but  thought  only  of  his  destination  and  the  object  of  his 
visit  there.  He  hurried  through  the  garden,  from  one  flight 
of  steps  to  another  and  on  up  until  he  reached  the  villa.  He 
stood  still  a  moment  taking  a  swift  inventory  of  his  surround- 
ings and  endeavoring  to  see  the  scene  enacted  here  a  few  days 
before. 

In  his  mind's  eye  he  could  see  the  queen  of  his  heart,  for 
whom  he  had  destined  the  proud  place  of  queen  of  Babylon, 
carried  bound  and  helpless  into  yonder  villa,  the  unwilling 
captive  of  a  boy  libertine.  The  thought  was  maddening.  A 
hot  flush  of  angry  passion  mantled  his  swarthy  cheek.  Had 
Belshazzar  been  present  at  that  moment  a  murder  might  have 
taken  place,  but  the  prince's  good  angel  prevented  such  an  en- 
counter. Ah,  Sheshbazzar,  a  higher  power  than  thine  rights 
the  wrongs  of  this  world  and  ere  many  days  have  passed,  that 
power  will  avenge  this  deed.  Far  better  that  thy  hands  remain 
innocent  of  the  blood  of  thy  mother's  son. 

Only  a  moment  did  the  prince  hesitate  before  the  villa. 
There  was  no  hesitation  in  his  character;  once  determined  upon 
a  course  of  action  he  carried  it  through  without  a  question.  He 
was  here  to  rescue  his  beloved  from  her  imprisonment  and  he 
would  accomplish  that  for  which  he  had  come.  In  his  own 
mind  there  existed  no  doubt  as  to  Orma's  fate.  Never  for  an 
instant  did  he  doubt  her  being  dishonored,  but  not  for  a  second 
did  he  think  of  her  as  aught  but  his  own  pure  love.  Whether 
Belshazzar  had  been  successful  or  not  in  his  vile  plot,  the  love 
of  Sheshbazzar  did  not  waver.  Honored  or  dishonored  she 
should  become  his  wife. 

He  hurried  up  the  steps  to  the  villa  and  boldly  entered.  He 
thought  of  the  directions  given  him  by  the  servant  and  passed 
down  the  corridor,  counting  the  doors  as  he  went  along.  At 
the  fourth  door  on  the  right  he  stopped.  Had  he  received  no 
directions  whatever  he  would  have  picked  out  this  as  the  door 


296  RHESA 

of  Orma's  prison  since  it  was  the  only  one  fastened  upon  the 
outside.  He  hastily  undid  the  heavy  fastenings  and  threw  back 
the  bolt.  He  hesitated  a  moment  from  feelings  of  delicacy. 
While  it  was  his  loved  one's  prison  it  was  also  her  chamber. 
He  pushed  the  door  open  slightly  and  again  waited.  Through 
the  narrow  opening  he  could  see  Orma  standing  as  we  have 
already  seen  her,  in  the  corner  as  if  awaiting  an  enemy.  He 
could  not  wait  longer  but  pushed  the  door  wide  open  and 
sprang  in. 

"Orma,  my  love!"  he  cried. 

"My  prince!"  she  said,  advancing  to  meet  him. 

He  opened  his  arms  and  clasped  her  to  his  bosom,  at  the 
same  moment  kissing  her  full  upon  her  arching  lips.  It  was 
a  moment  of  unalloyed  joy  for  both,  the  first  real  outburst  of 
their  affections.  Before  the  full  tide  of  their  affection  all  re- 
membrances of  Nehum's  objections  were  washed  away.  Come 
what  might,  henceforth  they  belonged  to  each  other.  Orma 
for  the  moment  forgot  even  the  religious  barrier  between  them. 
He  loved  her  and  she  him;  what  else  was  needed?  The  con- 
viction came  to  both  that  from  that  moment  no  power  on 
earth  could  separate  them.  All  that  remained  was  the  over- 
coming of  minor  difficulties. 

While  they  were  thus  absorbed  in  each  other's  love,  they 
failed  to  see  the  figure  of  a  man  glide  up  to  the  door,  tiptoe 
into  the  room  and  softly  pull  the  door  shut.  Only  as  the 
bolts  were  shot  into  place  Sheshbazzar  heard  the  click  and 
turned  to  learn  the  cause.  As  he  beheld  the  door  barred  upon 
them  he  turned  again  to  Orma  his  face  white  and  drawn.  He 
looked  at  her  in  consternation.  No  fear  for  himself  could 
cause  such  despair.  He  thought  only  of  Orma  and  of  the  posi- 
tion she  was  innocently  placed  in.  An  act  of  his  had  com- 
promised the  one  he  loved.  No  incident  connected  with  his 
lost  cause  had  so  overwhelmed  him  as  this.  He  felt  he  had 
forever  ruined  the  woman  that  he  loved,  but,  as  he  thought 
upon  it,  he  could  not  blame  himself.  He  realized  how  honor- 


ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER  297 

able  had  been  his  intentions  in  coming  thither,  but  could  he 
make  others  believe  in  his  object? 

Orma  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Oh,  my  prince.  Thou  hast  placed  thyself  again  in  the  hands 
of  thine  enemies.  Rather  have  left  me  to  my  fate  than  thus 
risk  thine  own  life,"  she  said. 

"Nay,  Orma,  I  fear  not  for  myself.  I  am  thinking  of  the 
position  in  which  I  have  placed  thee.  I  came  here  to  conduct 
thee  hence  unto  thy  father's  house  but  mine  enemies  can  use  my 
presence  to  thy  discredit." 

"Fear  not  for  me,"  she  said  bravely,  "as  long  as  thou  know- 
est  me  not  dishonored  I  am  content.  As  long  as  thou  believest 
me  unspotted  I  care  not  for  what  others  may  say." 

He  caught  at  the  hint  expressed  in  her  speech  and  it  gave 
him  pleasure.  His  great  love  could  have  borne  ill  news  but 
it  was  a  relief  to  know  it  would  not  be  put  to  the  test. 

"We  must  not  stay  here,"  he  said  after  a  short  pause.  "Some 
means  of  escape  must  be  found.  My  chariot  is  waiting  at  the 
base  of  the  gardens  and  if  I  do  not  return  the  driver  will  give 
the  alarm." 

He  examined  the  door  carefully  but  at  once  gave  up  all  hope 
of  attempting  an  escape  in  that  direction.  The  door  was  stout 
and  both  hinges  and  lock  were  proof  against  breaking.  The 
only  remaining  hope  lay  in  the  window.  Upon  examination 
this  gave  little  encouragement.  Evidently  all  the  king's  doves 
were  not  easily  caged,  else  stout  doors  and  heavy  bars  would 
have  been  unnecessary.  At  length  he  turned  sadly  to  Orma. 

"Unless  we  get  help  from  outside  we  must  stay  here,"  he 
said. 

"Let  us  pray  that  help  from  outside  may  come  to  us  then," 
she  said  reverently. 

"Pray!    To  whom?" 

"To  God."  Then  for  the  first  time  their  religious  differ- 
ences came  to  her  mind  and  she  sighed  deeply.  Her  lover 
noticed  the  sigh  and  smiled. 

"Thou  thinkest  me  an  idolater,  Orma,"  he  said,  "but  I  be- 


298  RHESA 

lieve  in  prayer.  When  I  was  tied  hand  and  foot  in  the  drown- 
ing chamber  I  called  upon  my  gods  and  they  sent  Ulbar  to  my 
assistance." 

The  girl  made  no  reply  but  only  sighed  again.  She  mentally 
resolved  never  to  cease  petitioning  until  this  proud  idolater  was 
brought  to  see  the  true  God. 

Another  period  of  silence  followed.  The  prince  had  given 
up  all  hope  of  escaping  before  nightfall.  Then  he  intended 
cutting  through  the  bars  that  held  the  heavy  lattice  in  the 
window.  He  seated  himself  upon  a  stool  and  Orma  reclined 
upon  the  couch.  He  questioned  her  concerning  all  that  had 
happened  since  the  day,  only  a  short  time  before,  when  she  held 
converse  with  a  strange  Arab  in  the  market  place.  Orma  nar- 
rated all  that  had  occurred.  Suddenly  she  stopped  at  a  sign 
from  him. 

"I  must  tell  thee,"  he  exclaimed,  "thy  brother  Heber  is  alive 
and  well  and  is  now  an  inmate  of  his  father's  house." 

Orma  gave  a  little  cry  and  her  face  lit  up  with  an  expression 
of  the  greatest  pleasure.  Ah  what  a  privilege  it  is  to  be  the 
bearer  of  good  news. 

"But  thyself,"  she  said,  suddenly  remembering  the  last  news 
she  had  heard  of  him.  "How  earnest  thou  hither?  How  didst 
thou  escape  from  thy  enemies?" 

"I  was  rescued  by  a  body  of  Persians  and  carried  to  the  camp 
of  Cyrus.  It  was  there  I  found  Heber." 

"Tell  me  all,"  she  said,  her  animated  face  showing  her  in- 
terest. 

Thus  commanded  he  related  all  that  had  befallen  him  since 
the  morning  he  and  Orma  had  conversed  in  the  Arab  tent, 
closing  with  his  reception  at  the  hands  of  Nabonidos. 

"Dost  thou  suspect  the  king  of  treachery?"  she  asked,  refer- 
ring to  his  present  imprisonment. 

"I  know  not  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  Belshazzar  is  respon- 
sible for  this  present  pleasure,"  he  said  smiling. 

Further  discussion  of  this  subject  was  prevented  by  the 
entrance  of  Maraida  who  came  with  Orma's  lunch.  She 


ORMA'S  FELLOW  PRISONER  299 

stopped  abruptly  upon  seeing  another  occupant  of  the  chamber. 
Orma  noticing  her  confusion  hastened  to  explain. 

"Maraida,  this  is  Prince  Sheshbazzar,  come  to  rescue  me  and 
himself  made  a  prisoner." 

"Prince,"  she  continued,  "this  is  Maraida  who  saved  thy  life 
by  giving  another  babe  to  die  for  thee." 

"Can  it  be  possible?"  he  exclaimed,  rising  to  greet  the  woman. 
"I  have  often  questioned  those  who  knew  the  circumstances  of 
my  rescue  concerning  thee  but  not  one  could  tell  what  became 
of  thee  after  the  murder.  I  hope  some  day  I  can  reward  thee 
as  thou  deservest.  For  the  present  I  can  only  express  my  grati- 
tude." 

Maraida  set  down  her  burden,  expressing  as  she  did  so  the 
hope  that  she  had  brought  enough  for  two.  The  prince  drew 
his  stool  up  beside  Orma  and  together  they  partook  of  the  re- 
freshments. The  woman  sat  silently  watching  them  as  they  ate. 
She  was  evidently  absorbed  in  thought.  When  they  finished 
eating  she  arose  and  hastily  collected  what  remained,  prepara- 
tory to  taking  her  departure. 

At  the  door  she  stopped  and  turned  to  speak  to  them. 

"Tonight,"  she  said,  and  then  hesitated.  "Tonight,"  she 
repeated,  "when  all  is  dark  and  still  I  will  unbolt  the  door. 
Thou  wilt  then  know  what  to  do." 

"Oh,  Maraida,  thou  art  an  angel!"  exclaimed  Orma.  "But," 
she  added,  "thou  must  come  with  us. 

Maraida  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"Ah  no,"  she  said,  "I  have  been  here  so  long  I  would  not 
know  how  to  live  elsewhere.  .Here  I  have  spent  the  best  years 
of  my  life  and  here  I  must  die." 

Before  either  of  them  could  speak  she  had  glided  through  the 
door  and  closed  it  behind  her. 


300  RHESA 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

INTO  THE  DARK   WATERS 

The  hours  of  the  afternoon  drifted  slowly  by,  yet  but  for 
their  present  predicament  both  prisoners  would  have  found  the 
time  enjoyable.  As  it  was  the  irksomeness  of  their  imprison- 
ment was  greatly  relieved  by  the  joy  of  being  together.  Thus 
while  the  time  passed  slowly,  its  flight  was  more  rapid  than  it 
would  have  seemed  to  either  one  alone.  To  Orma,  in  com- 
parison with  the  other  days  of  her  captivity,  it  passed  quickly. 
The  afternoon  was  spent  wholly  in  conversation.  Up  to  this 
time  they  had  never  been  alone  save  for  an  occasional  very  brief 
period.  Because  of  their  previous  lack  of  opportunities  the 
present  communion  was  doubly  precious.  The  prince,  usually 
so  reserved,  in  the  presence  of  his  love  revealed  his  whole  nature, 
his  deep  love  and  his  true  nobility  of  character.  Their  conversa- 
tion touched  upon  nearly  every  topic,  one  only  being  omitted, 
that  of  religion.  Orma,  with  her  womanly  tact,  saw  little  to 
be  gained  by  continually  harassing  the  prince  upon  a  subject 
she  knew  to  be  distasteful  to  him. 

With  evening  came  Maraida  bearing  a  tray  well  supplied 
with  food  and  drink.  Together  they  partook  of  the  refresh- 
ment, and  as  they  ate  Sheshbazzar  questioned  the  woman  as 
to  the  number  and  location  of  the  guards.  She  informed  him 
there  were  usually  six  eunuchs  in  attendance  at  the  villa,  but 
of  late  several  negro  slaves  had  been  added.  During  the  after- 
noon, she  said,  several  palace  guards  had  arrived  and  were  sta- 
tioned outside  the  villa  and  scattered  through  the  gardens.  The 
prince  received  this  unwelcome  information  with  the  calmness 
peculiar  to  his  race,  but  it  gave  him  inward  misgivings.  He 
realized  the  difficulties  ahead  of  him,  and  he  almost  despaired 
of  effecting  an  escape,  even  with  Maraida's  assistance.  As  she 
told  of  the  number  of  guards,  a  question  presented  itself  to  his 
mind  and  he  at  once  gave  it  utterance. 


INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS  301 

"With  this  force  on  guard,  how  was  I  able  to  enter  so 
easily?"  he  asked. 

"Perhaps  they  were  willing  to  let  thee  in,"  she  answered 
naively. 

"I  see  it  all,"  he  said.  "Anticipating  this  attempt  on  my  part, 
Belshazzar  gave  orders  to  allow  me  to  enter  and  then  keep  me 
here.  Orma,  we  must  leave  here  tonight.  Better  to  die  escap- 
ing than  to  remain  in  this  place." 

"We  will  die  together,"  she  said,  her  face  pale  but  her  lips 
tightly  closed  with  determination. 

"I  will  keep  my  word  if  it  is  possible,"  said  Maraida. 

"Hast  thou  then  doubts  as  to  thy  ability  to  help  us?"  he 
asked. 

"There  are  many  difficulties  in  the  way,"  she  answered,  "but 
I  am  a  privileged  person  here  and  I  may  be  able  to  carry  out 
the  part  I  suggested.  It  all  depends  upon  how  the  guards  are 
placed.  Should  they  be  inside  the  building  I  cannot  aid  thee. 
If  I  find  I  cannot  undo  the  fastenings  of  the  door  I  will  en- 
deavor to  find  some  other  means  of  assisting  thee.  Believe  me 
thou  must  leave  tonight.  Tomorrow  the  king  leaves  the  city 
and  everything  will  be  left  in  the  hands  of  Belshazzar.  He  can 
then  carry  out  his  plans  without  fear.  I  have  assurance  that 
up  to  this  time  fear  of  his  father  has  restrained  him.  For  sev- 
eral days  the  old  king  has  contrived  to  keep  his  son  within  the 
palace." 

"But  Nabonidos  has  promised  to  release  Orma,"  interposed 
the  prince. 

The  woman  hesitated,  surprised  at  the  information.  Sud- 
denly a  light  seemed  to  break  in  upon  her. 

"Then  Nabonidos  it  was  who  sent  the  guards  here  this  after- 
noon. But  Belshazzar  has  turned  them  to  his  own  purposes. 
The  officer  in  command  is  already  deep  in  league  with  the  boy. 
I  have  been  questioning  one  of  the  guards  and  therefore  I  know 
whereof  I  speak." 

"What  is  the  officer's  name?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Shemakin,"  she  replied. 


302  RHESA 

"Shemakin,  the  traitor!"  cried  the  prince,  leaping  to  his  feet. 

For  several  moments  he  paced  back  and  forth  before  the  two 
women.  His  hands  were  clenched  and  his  swarthy  brow  was 
as  dark  as  a  thunder  cloud.  His  passions  were  striving  to  gain 
the  mastery  over  him  and  were  well  nigh  successful.  All  trace 
of  his  habitual  calmness  was  gone.  At  length  he  stopped  his 
rapid  walk  and  faced  the  woman  of  his  heart. 

"Orma!"  he  exclaimed.  "There  will  be  death  here  in  this 
place  tonight  and  if  my  hand  strikes  down  a  fellow  man  thou 
must  not  judge  me  harshly.  We  will  escape  without  shedding 
blood  if  possible,  but  rather  than  be  foiled  in  our  attempt  I 
shall  use  my  weapons  and  strike  to  kill.  This  Shemakin  is  the 
man  whose  treachery  defeated  me  in  my  attempt  to  win  the 
throne.  If  this  night  we  meet  the  hand  behind  the  dagger  will 
be  strengthened  by  revenge." 

Orma  looked  upon  her  lover  surprised  and  fearful.  Never 
before  had  she  seen  this  side  of  his  character.  To  her  he  had 
always  been  the  courtly,  gallant  noble.  His  manner  toward 
her  had  always  been  one  of  gentleness.  She  had  never  before 
realized  the  depth  of  passion  of  which  he  was  capable.  Yet, 
though  she  shrank  from  him  in  his  present  mood,  she  secretly 
admired  him.  She  realized  as  well  as  a  woman  could  the  forces 
that  inspired  such  passion  but  she  secretly  prayed  that  he  be 
saved  from  the  crime  of  murder. 

He  turned  away  from  them  and  approached  the  window.  For 
several  moments  he  stood  there  leaning  against  the  casement. 
The  eyes  of  both  women  were  upon  him ;  both  realized  the 
struggle  taking  place  within  him.  At  length  his  better  nature 
triumphed  over  his  dark  passion  and,  when  he  turned  to  them 
again  his  brow  was  serene,  his  lips  smiling.  All  traces  of  the 
murderous  mood  had  passed  away  and  he  stood  before  them 
calm  and  self-possessed. 

He  seated  himself  upon  the  couch  beside  Orma  and  drew  her 
to  him. 

"My  love,"  he  whispered,  "forgive  this  outburst.  I  was  be- 
side myself  and  knew  not  what  I  said.  For  the  moment  my 


INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS  303 

passions  were  beyond  my  control.  I  shall  do  no  murder.  But," 
he  added,  "it  will  be  best  for  all  concerned  that  no  guard  at- 
tempt to  stop  us." 

Maraida  now  gathered  up  the  remains  of  the  meal  and  de- 
parted. 

"Thou  wilt  hear  from  me  before  morning,"  was  her  farewell. 

When  she  had  gone  Sheshbazzar  set  to  work  to  effect  their 
escape.  He  too  realized  the  necessity  of  getting  Orma  away 
from  Belshazzar  before  Nabonidos  left  the  city.  Maraida's 
words  proved  to  the  prince  the  king's  sincerity.  He  only  re- 
gretted that  Nabonidos  had  made  so  unfortunate  a  selection 
of  a  commander  for  his  rescuing  band.  For  the  moment  the  gods 
seemed  to  favor  the  boy  king. 

"But,"  thought  the  prince,  "he  has  no  maiden  to  deal  with 
now.  The  gods  grant  I  be  kept  from  murder,  but  if  I  must 
use  my  weapons  I  shall  feel  myself  justified." 

During  his  struggle  at  the  window  he  had  made  an  examina- 
tion of  the  heavy  lattice  that  filled  the  opening.  It  was  of 
wood  and  was  held  in  place  by  three  heavy  bars  that  crossed  it 
on  the  outside.  He  believed  it  possible  to  cut  through  these 
bars  but  it  meant  several  hours  of  hard  work.  In  order  to 
escape  before  morning  he  must  begin  work  at  once  and  not 
wait  for  darkness  to  set  in.  While  Maraida  might  be  able 
to  release  them  he  yet  determined  to  have  another  avenue  of 
escape  open.  Accordingly  he  selected  the  sharpest  of  his  dag- 
gers and  began  whittling  at  the  lowest  bar.  The  wood  was 
tough  and  hard  and  the  weapon  little  adapted  for  such  work, 
but  after  an  hour's  continuous  labor  the  bar  was  so  nearly  cut 
that  a  strong  push  upon  the  lattice  would  break  it.  Then  he 
began  work  upon  the  opposite  end  of  the  bar.  As  he  con- 
tinued w-orking  his  dexterity  increased  but  it  was  another  hour 
before  the  second  cut  was  completed.  At  this  rate  it  would 
be  after  midnight  before  he  could  hope  to  have  the  work  com- 
pleted. Orma  stood  at  his  side  and  watched  him  as  he  labored. 
She  assisted  by  whetting  the  idle  dagger  against  the  sill  of  the 


304  RHESA 

window  while  he  worked  with  the  other.  Her  own  weapon 
he  had  rejected  as  too  light  for  the  work  in  hand. 

Darkness  closed  in.  It  was  a  pleasant  night  but  only  the 
light  of  the  stars  illuminated  it.  The  moon  would  not  rise  until 
toward  morning.  After  the  sun's  light  failed  the  prince  found 
his  work  still  harder.  He  realized  now  that  it  would  have  been 
wiser  to  cut  the  topmost  bar  first  and  leave  the  lower  until  the 
last,  but  the  error  had  been  made  and  it  was  too  late  to  rectify 
it.  At  length  the  middle  bar  was  done  and  he  must  now  work 
upon  the  topmost  one.  With  Orma's  aid  he  drew  the  couch 
up  close  to  the  window  and  by  standing  on  the  couch  he  could 
reach  to  work. 

While  he  was  working  on  the  last  bar  between  them  and 
liberty  a  low  click  was  heard  as  the  bolts  of  the  door  were 
slipped  back.  Neither  Orma  nor  the  prince  spoke,  waiting 
for  the  newcomer  to  do  so  first.  If  it  was  not  Maraida  they 
wished  to  know  it  before  declaring  themselves.  In  a  moment 
the  unseen  one  spoke  and  it  was  their  faithful  friend. 

"Where  art  thou?"  she  whispered.    "It  is  I,  Maraida." 

"Here  by  the  window,"  answered  the  prince. 

They  heard  her  groping  across  the  room,  now  hitting  this 
object,  now  that.  At  last  she  struck  the  couch  and  stopped. 

"I  can  leave  thy  door  unlocked,"  she  said,  "but  it  will  be  of 
no  avail.  Two  guards  are  stationed  at  the  outside  door." 

"Where  are  the  others?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Two  eunuchs  are  upstairs,  two  are  at  the  back  of  the  house 
and  the  fifth  is  in  his  room.  The  other  I  cannot  locate.  The 
two  guards  at  the  door  are  all  I  can  see.  The  others  and  the 
negroes  must  be  outside  guarding  the  paths  and  stairs.  Oh  sir, 
I  fear  thou  canst  never  escape." 

"We  will,"  he  hissed  and  turned  again  to  his  work. 

"Maraida,"  whispered  Orma,  "thou  must  come  with  us. 
Thou  shalt  live  in  my  home.  Since  my  mother's  death  I  have 
been  very  lonely.  Come  and  be  a  companion  unto  me." 

"Nay,"  answered  the  woman,  "I  cannot;  I  dare  not.  As 
long  as  Nabonidos  lives  I  must  remain  here.  Should  I  leave 


INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS  305 

here  and  go  to  thy  home  it  would  but  bring  trouble  upon  the 
heads  of  thyself  and  friends.  As  to  a  companion,  my  dear,  me- 
thinks  thou  wilt  soon  have  one  more  to  thy  liking  than  a  former 
concubine.  Ah  no,  I  must  die  here.  I  am  inured  to  the  life 
now.  I  can  stand  it  a  few  years  more.  Then  death  will  release 
me  forever." 

"Be  it  as  thou  wishest,"  answered  Orma  sadly  as  she  put  her 
arm  around  the  woman's  waist. 

"If  I  live  and  leave  this  place  I  shall  always  remember  thee 
and  sooner  or  later  I  hope  to  welcome  thee  to  my  home.  If 
I  die  thou  wilt  have  the  consciousness  of  having  done  a  kind- 
ness in  even  allowing  me  to  find  death  instead  of  dishonor. 
Thou  hast  made  my  captivity  less  irksome  and  I  shall  always 
love  thee  for  it." 

Maraida  turned  to  Orma  and  whispered:  "Before  thou 
leavest  this  place  I  have  something  to  say  unto  thee.  Come  to 
the  other  side  of  the  room." 

Orma  followed  her  wonderingly.  In  a  few  brief  terse  sen- 
tences the  woman  revealed  unto  her  a  secret  that  made  her  heart 
beat  violently  and  sent  the  blood  coursing  through  her  veins. 

"Remember,  my  dear,  this  secret  is  not  to  be  disclosed  to 
anyone;  at  least  not  for  the  present,"  she  said  in  closing. 

"Come,  all  is  ready,"  called  the  prince. 

Orma  turned  hastily  to  Maraida  and,  reaching  up,  kissed 
her  tenderly.  "Farewell  Maraida,  until  we  meet  again,"  she 
whispered. 

The  prince  climbed  down  from  the  couch  and  felt  his  way 
across  the  room  until  he  stood  beside  them.  Then  he  too,  in  a 
few  brief  manly  sentences  bade  farewell  to  the  woman  who 
had  saved  his  life. 

Maraida  left  the  room  and  they  heard  the  bars  slide  into 
place.  They  were  alone  and  all  was  ready  for  their  escape. 
The  prince  placed  his  arm  tenderly  about  his  love  and  pressed 
her  tightly  to  his  breast.  He  kissed  her  upon  her  fair  white 
forehead  and  whispered  in  her  ear: 


3o6  RHESA 

"Orma,  my  love,  my  own.  If  I  am  to  die  this  night  this  will 
be  my  farewell.  I  may  never  have  another  opportunity." 

"Nay,  my  prince,  we  will  die  together,"  she  said. 

"But  we  will  hope  for  life  and  happiness.  Come  my  love, 
one  more  kiss  and  we  will  leave.  May  the  gods  be  with  us 
and  help  us  in  our  escape." 

She  stood  on  tiptoe  and  kissed  his  bearded  cheek.  Then  he 
led  her  toward  the  window  and  assisted  her  to  climb  upon 
the  sill.  He  climbed  up  beside  her  and  stood  a  moment  listen- 
ing. All  was  quiet.  He  gave  a  strong  push  upon  the  lattice. 
There  was  a  slight  cracking  noise  as  the  bars  gave  way  and 
then  a  dull  thud  as  the  heavy  lattice  fell  into  the  long  grass 
below.  He  sat  upon  the  sill,  his  feet  hanging  outside,  and 
bade  Orma  to  do  likewise.  When  she  was  beside  him  he  caught 
her  under  both  arms  and  swung  her  clear  of  the  sill.  Slowly 
he  lowered  her  until  he  could  reach  over  no  farther  and  then 
let  go.  She  dropped  silently  upon  the  turf  and  in  another 
moment  he  was  beside  her. 

Thus  far  all  had  gone  well.  He  waited  a  moment  and  lis- 
tened. Not  a  sound  revealed  the  presence  of  a  guard.  He  bade 
Orma  remain  where  she  was  while  he  crept  to  the  front  of  the 
house.  In  order  to  reach  the  stairs  they  must  pass  around  the 
villa  and  he  wished  to  know  what  opposition  he  might  meet. 
He  dropped  upon  his  knees  and  thus  slowly  made  his  way 
along  until  he  reached  the  corner  of  the  villa.  Again  he 
stopped  and  listened.  It  was  still  quiet.  Emboldened  by  the 
stillness  he  crept  around  the  corner  and  slowly  worked  his  way 
to  the  very  entrance.  Cautiously  he  raised  himself  and  looked 
over  the  railing  of  the  narrow  veranda.  Two  guards  sat  under 
his  very  eyes.  He  could  have  reached  out  and  touched  them. 
In  the  darkness  he  could  not  tell  whether  they  were  awake  or 
asleep  but  he  at  least  judged  them  to  be  not  over  alert. 

He  again  dropped  to  his  knees  and  slowly  made  his  way 
back  to  Orma's  side. 

"Follow  me."  he  whispered,  "all  bids  fair  for  a  successful 
escape." 


INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS  307 

She  dropped  upon  her  knees  and  followed  him  as  best  she 
could.  He  followed  the  route  he  had  previously  taken  until 
they  reached  the  corner  of  the  house.  Then  he  branched  off  to 
the  left,  keeping  in  the  shadow  of  a  row  of  shrubs,  Orma  fol- 
lowing at  a  distance  of  about  four  feet.  They  kept  behind  the 
shrubs  until  they  had  completed  a  half-circle  and  were  in  front 
of  the  villa  but  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  path  leading  to  the 
stairs.  Sheshbazzar  arose  and  whispered  to  Orma.  She  arose 
and  stood  behind  him. 

"We  will  wait  a  moment  and  then  hurry  to  the  stairs.  Keep 
behind  trees  and  bushes  all  the  way,  but  wait,  give  me  thy 
hand  and  we  will  keep  together,  else  if  the  guard  become 
alarmed  we  may  become  separated,"  he  said. 

Thus  together  they  made  a  dash  for  the  stairs,  keeping  well 
to  the  edge  of  the  mound  and  as  far  from  the  path  as  possible. 
A  few  moments  later  they  paused  behind  a  clump  of  trees 
close  beside  the  stairway.  Their  next  step  would  place  them 
in  the  open  with  nothing  but  the  dim  light  to  aid  them. 

Sheshbazzar  waited  only  a  moment  for  Orma  to  regain  her 
breath.  Then  he  dropped  to  his  knees  again  and  crawled  to 
the  edge  of  the  stairway.  He  half  raised  himself  and  peered 
over  the  stone  parapet.  Just  beneath  him  he  could  barely  dis- 
tinguish the  figure  of  a  man  sitting  upon  the  stairs.  He  turned 
and  retraced  his  steps  to  Orma's  side. 

"There  is  a  guard  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  my  love.  May 
the  gods  forgive  me  the  deed  but  our  safety  requires  his  death. 
Come,"  he  whispered  hoarsely. 

She  nestled  close  beside  him  and  together  they  worked  their 
way  through  the  bushes  toward  the  stairs.  At  the  very  edge 
of  the  clearing  he  left  her  while  he  went  to  clear  the  path  of 
the  obstacle.  Orma  remained  behind  a  small  shrub  and  awaited 
his  return.  Her  heart  beat  so  violently  that  its  pulsations 
seemed  almost  audible.  Moments  that  seemed  ages  passed  and 
her  lover  did  not  return.  She  listened  but  not  a  sound  came  to 
tell  her  of  what  was  taking  place.  At  length  she  heard  a  rustle 
beside  her  and  in  another  moment  the  prince  was  with  her. 


308  RHESA 

"Our  path  is  clear,"  he  said  in  a  tense  strained  whisper. 

Trusting  herself  to  his  guidance  she  followed  him.  Near  the 
head  of  the  stairs  they  paused  while  he  gave  her  a  few  whis- 
pered directions. 

"We  must  make  a  dash  for  it,"  he  said.  "Keep  close  to  me 
and  if  anyone  opposes  us,  do  thou  stand  behind  me." 

He  sprang  across  the  intervening  space  and  she  following, 
they  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs  safely  and  started  down. 
Orma  stumbled  but  quickly  regained  her  balance,  noticing  with 
horror  the  object  that  tripped  her  feet.  It  was  the  body  of 
the  guard.  Down,  down  they  hurried.  In  their  anxiety  it 
seemed  as  if  the  stairs  were  innumerable,  but  at  length  they 
reached  the  bottom.  Once  upon  the  next  stage  the  prince 
breathed  more  freely.  He  imagined  the  guards  would  all  be 
upon  the  topmost  terrace,  but  for  all  his  belief,  he  did  not 
relax  his  vigilance.  From  the  foot  of  the  first  stairway  to  the 
top  of  the  second  was  less  than  an  hundred  feet.  Still  keeping 
in  the  shrubbery  they  described  another  circle  and  in  fifteen 
minutes  were  at  the  head  of  the  second  stairway.  The  prince 
reconnoitered  again  but  found  no  guard. 

As  before  they  made  a  dash  down  the  stairs,  reaching  the 
bottom  in  safety.  In  the  shrubbery  at  the  foot  they  stopped 
to  rest  a  moment  before  going  farther.  Neither  spoke.  The 
shadow  of  the  deed  committed  at  the  first  stairs  weighed  upon 
both  their  minds.  It  was  the  first  time  Sheshbazzar  had  used 
a  dagger  in  the  dark  and  the  deed  was  distasteful  to  his  sol- 
dier's sense  of  honor.  Nevertheless  it  was  an  act  of  necessity. 

They  waited  but  a  few  moments.  Then  the  prince  arose  and 
assisted  Orma  to  do  likewise.  They  continued  their  way  as 
before,  always  keeping  well  hidden  in  the  shrubbery,  yet  always 
near  enough  the  path  to  prevent  losing  their  way.  In  a  few 
moments  they  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  next  stairway,  and 
they  were  on  the  lowest  terrace.  One  more  stairway  and  they 
would  be  upon  solid  ground  but  the  most  difficult  portion  of 
their  descent  yet  remained.  Heretofore  they  had  been  trav- 
ersing the  eastern  or  water  side  of  the  garden,  but  now  they 


INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS  309 

must  seek  the  stairs  that  led  down  to  the  temple  street.  To 
reach  the  stairs  they  were  obliged  to  entirely  cross  the  garden, 
a  distance  of  nearly  five  hundred  feet,  and  the  shrubbery  was 
much  thinner  than  upon  the  upper  terraces. 

As  they  sat  behind  a  tall  bush  close  beside  the  stairway  they 
had  just  descended,  they  heard  voices.  The  prince  cautiously 
peered  out  from  his  shelter  and  watched.  A  moment  later  two 
shadows  could  be  seen  coming  rapidly  down  the  stairs.  He 
judged  them  to  be  guards  who  no  doubt  had  found  the  body 
of  their  comrade  and  were  looking  for  his  slayer.  At  the  foot 
of  the  stairs  they  stopped  and  consulted  as  to  the  direction  to 
be  pursued. 

"How  many  men  are  there  on  this  terrace?"  asked  one. 

"Ten,"  replied  the  other.  "There  are  two  at  the  land 
stairs,  two  at  the  water  stairs  and  six  among  the  trees." 

Sheshbazzar's  heart  sank  at  this  information. 

"What's  the  trouble  anyway?"  asked  the  first  speaker. 

"I  don't  know.  There  is  some  prisoner  up  yonder  most 
likely." 

"But  what  killed  Murdath?" 

"That's  it.  That's  what  gets  me.  I  spoke  to  him  and  then 
went  away.  When  I  came  back  he  lay  on  the  stairs,  dead. 
There's  mischief  here  tonight  and  for  my  part  I  don't  like  it. 
Well,  let's  see  what  we  can  find.  Thou  go  one  way  and  I'll  go 
the  other  and  we'll  meet  here  again." 

Just  as  they  turned  to  pursue  their  two  courses  another 
shadow  came  down  the  stairs.  The  soldiers  hailed  him. 

"What's  the  trouble  here  tonight?"  one  called. 

"Trouble!"  answered  the  newcomer,  whose  voice  proved  him 
to  be  Shemakin.  "Two  of  the  king's  prisoners  have  escaped  and 
if  they're  not  caught  there'll  be  some  dead  guards  around  here. 
They  can't  leave  the  gardens.  There's  ten  talents  ready  for 
the  man  who  captures  them." 

"Ten  talents!"  cried  one  of  the  soldiers,  "I'd  kill  my  own 
mother  for  half  that.  Come,"  he  said  to  his  companion,  "let's 


3io  RHESA 

find  this  precious  pair.  Ten  talents  will  buy  a  farm  up  the 
river  and  we'll  be  land  owners." 

The  prince  saw  them  leave  but  he  was  unable  to  make  out 
Shemakin.  He  was  sure  the  officer  left  the  spot,  but  he  knew 
not  in  which  direction  he  went.  Meanwhile  Orma  sat  upon 
the  grass  trembling  in  every  limb.  Capture  seemed  imminent, 
for  if  they  could  not  get  out  of  the  gardens  before  daylight 
they  were  lost.  All  depended  on  their  reaching  safety  before 
the  sun  rose  or  for  that  matter  before  the  moon  rose.  The 
prince  turned  to  her. 

"My  love,"  he  whispered,  "we  cannot  stay  here.  By  remain- 
ing here  we  may  elude  them  for  the  present  but  they  will 
surely  find  us  in  the  morning." 

As  a  child  Sheshbazzar  had  made  the  gardens  his  play- 
ground and  every  inch  of  their  surface  was  familiar  to  him. 
This  knowledge  was  now  to  stand  him  in  good  stead.  He- 
remembered  the  existence  of  a  narrow  shaft  that  led  down  from 
this  terrace  into  the  pillared  gallery  below.  If  they  could  but 
reach  that  gallery  they  would  be  reasonably  secure,  for  amid 
those  countless  columns,  each  one  more  than  twenty  feet  in 
circumference,  it  would  be  impossible  to  find  them.  To  reach 
the  shaft,  however,  they  would  have  to  cross  a  wide,  open  path ; 
but  there  was  no  alternative.  He  assisted  Orma  to  her  feet 
but  she  sank  down  again  with  a  grqan.  He  bent  over  her 
tenderly. 

"Orma,  my  love,  what  aileth  thee?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  my  ankle,"  she  moaned,  "it  is  sprained." 

He  reached  down  and  felt  of  the  injured  member.  It  was 
already  badly  swollen.  She  had  sprained  it  when  she  stumbled 
over  the  dead  guard,  but  had  kept  bravely  on  with  never  a 
murmur.  He  remembered  now  how  several  times  he  had  been 
obliged  to  urge  her  to  further  haste.  It  was  an  unfortunate 
accident  but  could  not  be  helped.  There  was  but  one  thing 
to  do  and  the  prince  did  it.  He  picked  her  up  bodily  and  with 
her  in  his  arms  set  out  to  find  the  shaft  that  led  to  liberty. 


INTO  THE  DARK  WATERS  311 

Before  he  had  gone  twenty  feet  he  ran  plump  into  a  guard. 
Turning  instantly  he  dashed  away  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"Ho,  guards,"  called  the  fellow  lustily. 

Men  seemed  to  rise  from  the  ground,  so  quickly  were  they 
surrounded.  The  prince  glanced  hastily  around  him.  Scarcely 
ten  feet  away  he  saw  the  clump  of  trees  that  surrounded  the 
shaft,  but  between  him  and  the  goal  he  wished  to  reach  were 
three  guards.  He  turned  in  all  directions.  He  seemed  hemmed 
in  but  he  mentally  resolved  to  die  hard. 

"Orma,  my  love,  thou  hast  a  dagger.  Turn  it  on  thyself  if 
I  am  killed,"  he  whispered. 

Then  shifting  her  so  that  her  weight  came  upon  his  left  arm 
and  shoulder,  he  grasped  his  dagger  firmly  in  his  right  hand 
and  sprang  through  a  clump  of  bushes.  Orma  though  short 
was  plump  and  her  weight  was  no  trifle,  but  the  prince  was 
muscular  and  while  his  burden  was  somewhat  of  a  hindrance, 
he  made  good  time.  The  guards  gave  chase.  A  fortune  awaited 
the  man  who  caught  them.  Through  the  underbrush  he  dashed, 
Orma  clinging  firmly  to  his  neck.  He  dodged  and  turned  back 
upon  his  tracks  several  times,  ever  striving  to  reach  the  shaft 
but  unconsciously  getting  farther  away  from  it  and  nearer  to 
the  edge  of  the  mound. 

The  numbers  of  his  pursuers  increased  and  they  were  fast 
closing  in  upon  him.  He  ran  hither  and  thither  only  to  be 
confronted  by  a  guard  at  each  turn  and  forced  back.  He  saw 
clearly  that  this  sort  of  chase  must  end  in  capture.  The  guards 
hitherto  had  acted  as  individuals,  each  man  striving  to  capture 
the  fugitives  single  handed  that  he  might  secure  the  entire 
reward,  but  now  Shemakin  had  joined  them  and  under  his 
directions  they  formed  a  complete  circle  about  the  fugitives. 
Thus  in  a  long  unbroken  line  the  guards  closed  in  upon  them. 

Sheshbazzar  stopped  a  moment  and  looked  about  him  to 
find,  if  possible,  an  opening  through  which  he  could  dash.  He 
was  sure  from  the  numbers  composing  the  circle  that  practi- 
cally all  the  guards  had  joined  the  chase.  Therefore  if  he 
could  elude  that  advancing  line  his  chances  of  reaching  the 


312  RHESA 

street  were  good.  Suddenly  a  new  thought  flashed  through 
his  mind.  It  suggested  a  desperate  move  but  it  promised  a 
chance  for  life.  He  turned  quickly  and  dashed  through  an 
opening  in  the  line  toward  the  edge  of  the  mound.  It  was  only 
twenty  feet  but  as  he  gained  the  edge  the  hand  of  the  fore- 
most pursuer  was  almost  upon  him.  He  turned  upon  the  fel- 
low like  a  flash  and  lunged  at  him  viciously  with  his  dagger. 
He  only  grazed  the  man  but  so  fierce  was  the  onslaught  that 
the  guard  stepped  backward  and  in  that  instant  the  prince 
recognized  him.  It  was  Shemakin.  The  advantage  was  only 
momentary  but  in  that  moment  their  lives  were  saved.  Before 
Shemakin  rallied  and  again  attempted  to  grasp  the  prince,  the 
latter  turned  to  the  edge  of  the  mound.  Only  a  second  he  stood 
there  outlined  against  the  dark  background.  He  plunged  for- 
ward. There  was  a  stifled  shriek  from  Orma  as  she  felt  herself 
falling  through  space,  a  loud  splash  and  then  all  was  still. 
"Men,  to  the  boats,"  called  Shemakin. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

TO   THE    FRONT 

Immediately  after  they  rose  to  the  surface  of  the  reservoir 
Sheshbazzar  struck  out  with  his  unengaged  arm  and  in  a  few 
moments  reached  the  brick  enbankment.  He  climbed  out  and 
drew  Orma  up  beside  him.  Once  they  were  upon  the  bank  the 
prince  lifted  her  up  again  and  hurried  across  the  narrow  shelf 
into  the  vast  pillared  gallery  beneath  the  Hanging  Gardens. 
When  hidden  safely  inside  he  stopped  behind  one  of  the  immense 
pillars  that  he  might  learn  the  tactics  of  the  pursuers.  He 
could  hear  talking  and  shouting  at  the  water  stairs.  Two 
barges  were  usually  moored  there  and  the  prince  judged  they 
would  be  manned  by  the  pursuers  in  an  attempt  to  pick  them  up 
before  they  could  reach  land. 

In  another  moment  he  heard  the  splash  of  paddles  as  the  first 


TO  THE  FRONT  313 

barge  left  the  landing.  It  was  followed  immediately  by  the 
second.  Sheshbazzar  left  Orma  while  he  made  his  way  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  gallery  to  watch  their  movements.  The 
first  rays  of  the  rising  moon  were  reflected  upon  the  glass  sur- 
face of  the  reservoir  and  by  their  light  he  could  distinguish  the 
figures  in  the  two  barges.  Their  numbers  gave  him  a  sudden 
hope  and  he  hastily  returned  to  Orma. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "we  must  find  the  shaft  and  return  to  the 
terrace  above.  Practically  all  of  the  guards  are  in  the  boats 
looking  for  us  in  the  water.  If  we  are  quick  we  can  gain  the 
street  before  they  give  up  their  search." 

He  lifted  her  tenderly  in  his  arms  and  started  in  the  direction 
of  the  shaft.  It  was  not  an  easy  task  to  find  it  in  the  dark  al- 
though he  knew  its  location  perfectly.  In  a  vast  gallery  like  the 
one  they  were  traversing,  where  its  only  feature  was  duplicated 
a  thousand  times,  it  was  hard  to  locate  any  definite  spot.  At 
length,  after  many  turnings  and  wanderings  he  came  upon  the 
narrow  shaft  where  he  least  expected  it.  Contained  within  the 
shaft  was  a  steep  and  narrow  staircase  leading  up  to  the  gardens 
above.  It  was  so  narrow  that  he  could  not  carry  Orma  as  he 
had  been  doing,  but  had  to  take  her  upon  his  back.  She  put 
her  arms  about  his  neck  and  clung  to  him  as  he  slowly  mounted 
step  by  step  to  the  gardens  above. 

They  emerged  in  the  center  of  a  clump  of  trees  where  even  if 
surrounded  by  enemies  they  would  have  been  unseen.  The 
prince  laid  down  his  burden  beside  a  giant  trunk  while  he  went 
outside  to  reconnoiter.  As  far  as  he  could  judge  the  garden 
was  deserted.  He  returned  quickly  and  again  took  up  his 
burden,  which  lovely  though  it  was,  was  fast  becoming  almost 
unendurably  heavy. 

Cautiously  he  made  his  way  through  the  seemingly  deserted 
garden,  always  keeping  in  the  shadow  as  far  as  possible.  Upon 
this  stage  of  the  gardens  there  were  many  open  spaces,  causing 
him  to  make  long  detours  to  avoid  crossing  them.  The  moon 
had  now  risen,  enjoining  him  to  still  greater  vigilance.  Hereto- 
fore the  darkness  had  been  their  chief  ally  but  now  amidst  the 


3H  RHESA 

silvery  radiance  all  could  be  seen.  Orma  was  becoming  heavier 
every  moment  until  it  seemed  to  the  prince  that  he  must  drop 
her.  She,  brave  girl,  several  times  offered  to  walk  again  but 
he  persistently  rejected  her  offers.  A  soldier  is  always  more  or 
less  of  a  surgeon  and  he  accordingly  was  aware  of  the  seriousness 
of  her  hurt.  It  seemed  miraculous  that  her  will  had  kept  her 
going  so  long  before  revealing  the  injury  to  him. 

The  darkest  night  at  length  gives  way  to  day,  the  longest 
journey  is  eventually  completed,  the  hardest  task  is  at  last 
finished.  At  length  he  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the 
clump  of  trees  nearest  the  land  stairs  and  looked  about  him 
to  see  if  all  was  clear.  Instantly  he  was  seen  by  a  soldier 
who  was  standing  close  at  hand.  The  man  raised  a  trumpet 
to  his  lips  and  blew  three  long  blasts.  From  all  parts  of  the 
garden  men  came  running.  The  prince  turned  to  retreat  but 
a  tall  soldier  opposed  him.  He  turned  to  the  right  and  a 
soldier  stood  there.  It  was  useless.  They  were  caged  with  the 
last  avenue  of  escape  closed  to  them.  The  prince  dropped  Orma 
beside  the  nearest  large  tree  while  he,  standing  beside  her,  his 
back  to  the  trunk,  awaited  the  coming  enemy.  In  his  right 
hand  he  held  his  only  remaining  dagger,  the  other  having  been 
lost  at  the  moment  he  leaped  into  the  reservoir. 

The  soldiers  made  no  move  to  take  them  but  stood  around 
as  if  waiting  for  their  commander.  In  a  few  moments  he  came. 

"Thanks  be  to  Bel,"  he  cried  as  he  sprang  toward  the  de- 
spairing, beaten  prince. 

It  was  Belibus.  Instantly  the  fugitive  recognized  the  soldiers. 
They  were  the  Winged  Lions.  The  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling 
sapped  his  remaining  strength  and  he  sank  down  beside  Orma. 
His  weakness  was  but  momentary  and  he  arose  again.  Belibus 
grasped  his  hand  affectionately  as  he  gained  his  feet. 

"Oh  my  Prince,"  he  cried,  "we  feared  thine  enemies  had 
triumphed." 

"How  happens  it  thou  art  here?"  asked  the  prince. 

Belibus  made  no  direct  reply.  To  change  the  subject  he  an- 
nounced the  presence  at  the  land  stairs  of  a  chariot  to  convey 


TO  THE  FRONT  315 

them  thence.  The  prince  was  about  to  take  up  Orma  again 
when  Belibus  interposed.  He  called  up  two  soldiers  who 
made  a  chair  of  their  hands  and  thus  carried  the  dripping 
girl  down  the  stairs  and  deposited  her  in  the  vehicle. 

By  this  time  it  was  nearly  morning.  Already  the  first 
tinge  of  red  illuminated  the  eastern  sky.  They  reached  the 
house  of  Nehum  after  the  family  had  arisen.  The  reunion 
was  a  joyous  one  for  all  but  more  especially  for  Orma  and 
Heber.  While  the  affecting  scene  was  in  progress  Sheshbazzar 
stood  to  one  side,  forgotten  for  the  moment.  At  length  Orma 
left  them  to  change  her  wet  clothing,  and  then  Nehum  be- 
thought him  of  his  daughter's  rescuer.  He  grasped  the  young 
man's  hand  effusively  and  leaning  over,  raised  it  to  his  lips,  at 
the  same  moment  bathing  it  in  the  tears  that  coursed  down 
his  furrowed  cheeks. 

"My  son,  my  son,"  he  cried,  "doubly  am  I  thankful  to  thee 
now.  Twice  hast  thou  saved  my  daughter  from  death,  this 
time  from  worse  than  death.  How  shall  I  ever  repay  thee?" 

"There  is  but  one  reward  I  desire,"  the  prince  said  smiling. 

The  old  man  fathomed  his  meaning  and  it  gave  him  pain. 
He  was  silent  a  moment  as  if  at  a  loss  for  an  answer. 

"Thou  art  worthy  of  her,  Prince.  I  hope  some  day  to  see 
thee  happily  wed  but  O  sir,  there  yet  remains  mine  original 
objection,  thy  religion." 

The  brow  of  the  young  man  darkened.  While  he  took  no 
great  credit  upon  himself  for  the  deeds  of  the  night  now  passed 
he  yet  felt  at  such  a  time  that  Nehum's  words  were  inopportune 
and  unnecessary. 

"My  religion  sir,  is  my  own  and  I  see  no  reason  for  chang- 
ing it.  I  would  indeed  be  unworthy  of  thy  daughter  if  I  forsook 
my  gods  without  my  heart  indicating  such  action.  I  love  thy 
daughter  as  thou  knowest  and  I  aspire  to  make  her  my  wife 
but  I  cannot  change  my  religion  without  cause.  A  man's  re- 
ligion is  not  as  an  old  coat,  to  be  worn  or  discarded  or  ex- 
changed at  will." 

The  old  man  sighed  but  made  no  reply.     A  few  moments 


3i6  RHESA 

later  Sheshbazzar,  pleading  the  necessity  of  visiting  the  palace 
immediately,  preparatory  to  leaving  for  the  front,  bade  them 
farewell.  Nehum  urged  the  prince  to  change  his  attire  and 
have  some  food  with  them  but  he  refused.  Orma  came  out 
newly  arrayed  just  as  he  was  leaving  and  in  the  presence  of 
them  all  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  upturned  face. 

"Farewell  my  love,"  he  whispered.  "If  I  return  from  the 
war  alive  I  hope  to  make  thee  my  wife." 

She  looked  up  steadfastly  into  his  face  as  she  answered:  "I 
will  gladly  become  thy  wife  when  my  father  gives  his  consent." 

Sheshbazzar  hurried  toward  the  palace  and  was  fortunate 
to  reach  it  before  the  royal  party  left  for  the  front.  The 
palace  yard  was  a  scene  of  great  activity.  Servants  were 
scurrying  about  with  baggage  and  others  were  holding  the 
horses  of  the  party.  A  few  paces  back  from  the  great  en- 
trance stood  the  Winged  Lions  ready  for  an  immediate  start. 
At  their  head  was  Belibus. 

The  prince  waved  a  greeting  to  his  former  lieutenant  and 
entered  the  palace.  He  sought  the  king  at  once.  The  royal 
reception  room  was  also  a  scene  of  activity.  The  officers  and 
nobles  who  were  to  accompany  the  king  stood  about  in  groups 
waiting  the  word  to  mount.  Nabonidos  was  giving  Belshazzar 
his  final  instructions  as  to  the  conduct  of  affairs  during  his 
absence.  The  boy  readily  promised  to  see  that  all  prepara- 
tions for  defence  were  hurried  forward  and  everything  made 
ready  for  a  siege.  In  case  worse  came  to  worse  the  army  of  the 
frontier  could  seek  shelter  within  the  walls. 

It  was  not  until  after  the  old  king  had  finished  instructing 
his  son  that  he  observed  the  presence  of  Sheshbazzar.  As  soon 
as  the  monarch  beheld  the  prince  he  advanced  to  greet  him,  his 
unhandsome  face  illuminated  by  a  pleasant  smile. 

"We  missed  thee  Prince  and  feared  some  evil  had  befallen 
thee.  I  am  glad  to  see  thee  back  well  and  no  doubt  ready 
to  lead  our  armies  against  our  foes,"  he  said. 

"I  met  with  a  little  advanture  that  delayed  me  but  I  am  here 
ready  to  do  whatever  Babylon  asks  of  me,"  replied  the  prince. 


TO  THE  FRONT  3,7 

'What  adventure  hast  thou  had?"  asked  the  king 

Nothing  at  all  serious.  I  merely  assisted  a  young  woman  to 
escape  from  th  hands  of  a  seducer,"  he  answered,  glancing  at 
Belshazzar  and  receiving  a  look  of  enmity  in  return 

The  monarch  smiled  as  if  he  understood  the  adventure  re- 
ferred to.  His  next  remark  proved  his  knowledge 

"Thou  wouldst  not  trust  thy  king,  but  must  needs  perform 
the  deed  of  valor  alone  and  unassisted;  but  hold,  I  yesterday 
sent  a  company  of  guards  to  liberate  the  maiden." 

The  prince  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Let  us  hope,"  he  said,  "our  troops  opposing  Cyrus  will 
better  obey  their  orders." 

"They  disobeyed?  I  will  attend  to  this  matter  upon  my 
return.  There  is  now  no  time.  Another  time,  Prince,  it 
would  be  best  to  take  thy  king  into  thy  confidence.  Here 
this  worthy  priest  Neboakhu  has  turned  the  city  upside  down 
and  even  accused  his  sovereign  of  murder,  all  because  a  young 
adventurer  went  off  to  rescue  his  lady  fair  with  his  single  arm. 
To  appease  the  angry  priest  I  arose  from  my  couch  during 
the  small  hours  and  sent  Belibus  to  find  thee." 

"For  that  act  accept  my  sincere  thanks,  King  Nabonidos. 
Belibus  arrived  in  time  to  enable  me  to  reach  thee  before  thou 
left  the  city.  Had  I  known  the  odds  against  me  I  would  not 
have  undertaken  the  task  alone,"  replied  the  prince  looking 
suggestively  at  Belshazzar. 

"As  long  as  thou  art  here  to  go  with  us  this  morning  no 
harm  is  done  but  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  whoever 
prevented  thy  being  here,"  said  the  king,  raising  his  voice. 

It  was  more  apparent  than  ever  before  to  those  standing 
about  how  great  a  farce  was  the  elevation  of  Belshazzar. 
While  his  father  had  previously  treated  him  as  an  associate  and 
even  made  a  show  of  consultation  with  him,  this  morning  he 
had  given  him  orders  as  imperative  and  explicit  as  he  would 
have  given  to  a  common  officer.  Now  that  the  conversation 
turned  upon  military  matters  the  boy  was  ignored  entirely. 
He  sat  on  his  throne,  moody  and  silent,  alone  and  despised. 


3i8  RHESA 

He  sullenly  watched  the  scene  about  him,  his  face  dark  and 
forbidding. 

At  an  opportune  time  when  Sheshbazzar  was  momentarily 
disengaged,  Belshazzar  slipped  to  his  side  and  hissed  into  his 
ear: 

"Thou  hast  beaten  me  for  the  moment,  Sheshbazzar,  but 
my  turn  will  come.  Despite  this  silly  friendship  my  father  has 
suddenly  shown  for  thee,  I  will  have  my  revenge.  Remember 
from  today  I  am  sole  king  within  these  walls." 

"I  fear  thee  not,  Belshazzar,  but  remember  thou,  if  aught 
befalls  the  woman  of  my  heart  while  I  am  gone  I  will  have 
thy  life  though  I  were  to  die  the  next  moment,"  was  the  reply. 
Sheshbazzar's  tone  was  calm  and  dispassionate  but  he  spoke 
with  an  air  of  stern  determination  that  informed  his  hearer 
he  meant  every  word. 

Nabonidos,  who  had  been  absent  from  the  room  for  several 
moments,  now  returned  completely  attired  and  accoutred  for 
the  journey.  He  approached  Sheshbazzar,  and  the  boy  king, 
muttering  something  unintelligible,  slipped  away. 

"Thou  art  wet  Prince,  and  must  make  a  change  of  garments. 
In  the  anteroom  adjoining  thou  wilt  find  clothing  and  armor 
befitting  thy  rank  as  commander  of  the  forces  of  Babylon,"  said 
the  king. 

The  prince  went  at  once  to  the  apartment  mentioned  and  with 
the  assistance  of  a  servant  he  there  found,  donned  the  mag- 
nificent uniform  a  generous  monarch  had  provided  for  him. 
All  the  gorgeousness  the  customs  of  the  land  and  time  de- 
manded was  condensed  in  the  king's  costly  gift.  The  garments 
were  made  of  the  richest  material,  the  original  ground  work 
almost  hidden  beneath  the  splendid  embroideries.  The  armor 
was  of  the  finest  hammered  bronze  covered  with  representa- 
tions of  battle  and  hunting  scenes  etched  on  by  the  most  expert 
engravers  of  the  age,  while  here  and  there  a  precious  stone  was 
embedded.  The  sword  was  short  but  unusually  heavy;  it  was 
double-edged  and  had  a  hilt  of  gold  and  pearl. 

As  soon  as  he  was  arrayed  in  this  gorgeous  attire  the  prince 


TO  THE  FRONT  3i9 

returned  to  the  throne  room.  During  his  absence  the  various 
groups  of  waiting  nobles  had  been  merged  into  one  with 
King  Nabonidos  at  its  head.  As  the  soldier  entered  the  room 
.the  king  advanced  to  meet  him,  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led 
him  toward  the  assembled  company. 

"Nobles  of  Babylon,"  said  Nabonidos,  "I  present  to  thee 
Prince  Sheshbazzar,  General-in-Chief  of  the  armies  of 
Babylon." 

An  almost  audible  murmur  of  surprise  ran  through  the 
group.  Many  of  the  more  patriotic  among  the  nobles  felt 
exultant  as  they  recognized  their  old  acquaintance,  Nabo- 
muran.  One  by  one  they  advanced  to  greet  their  commander, 
the  king  calling  each  by  name.  Many  of  them  were  already 
known  to  the  young  man  and  for  all  such  he  had  a  pleasant 
word  of  recognition. 

For  a  few  moments  all  was  bustle  and  apparent  confusion 
as  the  entire  party  repaired  to  the  palace  yard.  One  by  one 
they  picked  out  each  his  own  mount.  Sheshbazzar  bethought 
him  of  the  fine  steed  the  king  had  given  him  the  preceding  day 
and  which  he  had  left  in  the  stables  of  Neboakhu.  He  stood 
apart,  near  the  palace  entrance,  watching  the  scene  before  him, 
hardly  knowing  where  in  the  bustle  he  belonged.  To  his  surprise 
he  saw  a  groom  approaching  leading  his  own  black  mare.  He 
glanced  toward  the  king  and  found  Nabonidos  laughing  at 
his  bewilderment. 

"Never  mind,  Prince,  I  will  explain,"  he  called. 

Sheshbazzar  vaulted  into  the  saddle  and  received  from  the 
groom  such  pieces  of  his  armor  as  he  had  laid  aside  before 
mounting.  He  remained  where  he  had  mounted  not  knowing 
where  his  particular  station  would  be,  forgetting  for  the  mo- 
ment that  his  birth  was  higher  than  that  of  any  of  the  others 
present,  not  excepting  the  king  himself.  When  all  was  ready 
for  the  start  Nabonidos  rode  up  beside  him. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "thy  place  is  beside  mine  at  the  head  of  the 
column." 


320  RHESA 

"But  these?"  pointing  to  the  company,  which  contained  the 
blue  blood  of  Babylon. 
The  king  smiled. 

"Hast  thou  forgotten  thine  own  birth  and  rank?"  he  asked. 
Then  for  the  first  time  the  prince  realized  the  position  in 
which  the  king's  magnanimity  placed  him.  The  General-in- 
Chief  of  the  army  and  still  greater  acknowledged  by  the  king 
as  prince  royal  of  Babylon,  he  outranked  all  others  present 
and  many  of  the  attendant  nobles  were  men  he  had  once  looked 
up  to  as  little  less  than  gods.  The  sense  of  his  position  was 
well  nigh  overwhelming  to  the  modest  young  soldier.  He 
realized  the  unselfishness  of  Nabonidos  in  thus  acknowledging 
him,  for  it  constituted  a  semi-surrender  of  the  monarch's  own 
title  to  royalty.  The  king  knew  full  well  what  thoughts 
would  enter  the  minds  of  many  of  his  nobles,  a  great  number 
of  whom  had  never  given  him  their  full  allegiance,  some  even 
terming  him  a  regent  holding  the  throne  in  trust  until  the  Lost 
Prince  was  found.  The  king  therefore  ran  the  risk  of  having 
these  men  demand  his  retirement  in  favor  of  the  legitimate 
prince.  He  at  least  invited  discord  when  they  returned,  if 
they  returned  victorious.  Perhaps  Nabonidos  had  a  presenti- 
ment of  the  coming  catastrophe  and  was  thereby  made  reckless. 

The  mind  of  Sheshbazzar  dwelt  upon  these  things  as  he  rode 
at  the  king's  side.  He  attempted  to  fathom  the  impulses  and 
purposes  behind  such  acts.  He  was  preoccupied,  thus  calling 
forth  a  protest  from  the  king. 

"What  is  passing  in  thy  mind,  Prince,  that  thou  art  thus 
silent?" 

"I  am  thinking  of  thy  treatment  of  me  and  endeavoring  to 
discover  the  causes  of  it." 

"Thou  doubtest  my  sincerity?"  asked  the  king  quickly. 

"Nay,  King,  but  I  admit  myself  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  thy 
motives." 

"Then  I  will  tell  thee,"  said  Nabonidas.  "I  had  not  in- 
tended revealing  my  plans  unto  thee  until  it  was  decided  who 
should  reign  in  Babylon,  King  Cyrus  or  myself,  but  for  the  sake 


TO  THE  FRONT  321 

of  pleasanter  company  on  the  road  I  will  tell  thee  all.  To  begin 
with,  although  I  am  not  an  old  man,  my  life  has  been  such  that 
[  feel  myself  prematurely  aged.  Therefore  in  order  to  train 
my  son  in  the  duties  of  kingship  I  raised  him  to  his  present 
position.  I  am  disappointed  in  him,  but  that  has  nothing  to 
do  with  my  present  plans.  I  learn  from  our  worthy  physician 
that  Belshazzar  is  in  the  clutches  of  a  disease  that  must  cause 
his  death  ere  many  years  or  even  months  have  passed.  As  his 
death  is  so  a  matter  of  certainty  I  have  been  thinking  of  what 
would  become  of  the  throne  at  his  death.  There  is  a  man,  not 
unknown  to  thee,  who  for  years  has  been  plotting  to  make 
himself  king  and  the  extinction  of  my  line  would  give  him 
his  opportunity.  I  then  thought  of  thee  and  of  the  rights  for 
which  thou  wert  battling.  I  did  my  best  to  defeat  thy  aims  but 
it  was  not  for  revenge  or  any  other  selfish  motive.  What  I 
would  resist  thy  taking  at  the  sword's  point  I  would  freely 
give  thee  of  mine  own  will.  My  present  conduct  arises  then 
from  my  desire  to  make  thee  my  heir,  who  at  my  death  shall 
become  king  of  this  great  empire.  Yea,  more  than  that. 
Should  Belshazzar's  death  precede  mine  I  will  then  abdicate  in 
thy  favor." 

The  prince  was  visibly  affected. 

"King  Nabonidos,"  he  said,  "I  have  injured  thee  in  thought 
more  even  than  in  deed.  I  denied  thee  the  capacity  for  noble 
thoughts  and  actions,  but  the  best  of  men  could  do  no  more  than 
thou  plannest  to  do.  Thy  motives  are  unselfish.  Thou  hast 
thought  more  of  Babylon  than  of  thyself,  thus  showing  the  true 
kingly  spirit." 

"Young  man,"  said  the  king,  "I  will  take  no  credit  not  my 
due.  I  must  admit  that  it  will  give  me  as  much  pleasure  to 
thwart  Vulmaran  as  to  do  thee  justice." 

"Vulmaran?" 

"Yea,  he  is  the  man  who  desires  to  become  king.  He  is  the 
man  who  would  have  murdered  thee  had  I  not  sent  Ulbar  to 
thine  assistance  and  he  is  the  man  who  would  have  caused  my 
death  as  quickly  as  he  attempted  thine." 


322  RHESA 

A  flood  of  light  was  let  into  the  prince's  mind  by  these  words. 
While  openly  opposing  him  the  king  had  been  his  secret  friend^ 
Still  there  were  many  points  yet  unexplained. 

"But  thou  sent  a  force  to  take  me  prisoner  when  I  was  in 
the  city,  disguised  as  an  Arab,  and  thou  sent  a  force  against  my 
camp  with  orders  to  take  me  dead  or  alive,"  he  said. 

Again  the  king  smiled. 

"When  that  Arab  entered  my  presence  I  recognized  him  at 
once  and  determined  to  protect  him.  When  Vulmaran  also  be- 
came possessed  of  the  information  I  saw  need  of  getting  thee 
without  the  city.  I  therefore  sent  a  company  to  take  thee  and 
carry  thee  to  Sippara  in  order  to  keep  thee  out  of  Vulmaran's 
power.  Thou  wert  rescued  by  whom  I  know  not,  but  the  next  I 
heard  thou  wert  at  the  head  of  a  rebellious  band.  As  king  of 
Babylon  it  was  my  duty  to  break  up  that  rebellion.  When  I 
heard  that  thy  life  had  been  sacrificed  I  was  sad  for  I  had 
hoped  thou  wouldst  be  taken  alive  and  had  given  orders  to 
that  end." 

"King  Nabonidos,"  said  the  prince  gravely,  "I  have  indeed 
much  to  thank  thee  for.  Thou,  whom  I  have  cursed  as  an 
enemy,  hast  in  reality  been  my  best  friend." 

"Thus  is  it  always  in  life,  Prince,"  observed  the  king.  "One 
must  know  a  man  a  lifetime  ere  classing  him  as  friend  or  foe." 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   TEST   OF   ARMS 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  King  Nabonidos,  Prince 
Sheshbazzar  and  their  party  rode  into  Sippara  and  went  into 
quarters  there.  The  first  information  to  greet  them  was  of 
the  proximity  of  the  Persians,  who  were  encamped  without  the 
walls  and  it  was  expected  that  they  would  attack  the  following 
morning.  To  meet  this  emergency  the  new  commander  of  the 
Babylonian  forces  remained  up  all  night,  conferring  with  his 


THE  TEST  OF  ARMS  323 

subordinate  commanders,  receiving  information  regarding  the 
strength  and  location  of  the  enemy  and  studying  the  general 
lay  of  the  land  in  the  vicinity.  As  a  result  of  his  ceaseless  labor 
he  was  able  to  submit  a  general  plan  of  battle  to  his  sovereign, 
a  plan  crude  in  comparison  with  modern  methods  of  warfare, 
but  one  according  with  Oriental  traditions. 

Instead  of  waiting  for  the  superior  forces  of  the  Persians  to 
attack,  Sheshbazzar  proposed  to  attack  the  foe  soon  after  day- 
break before  the  Persians  had  opportunity  to  form  in  any  ex- 
tended battle  order.  As  the  forces  under  his  command  in- 
cluded an  unusually  large  proportion  of  cavalry  he  considered 
himself  in  a  position  to  attack,  trusting  his  infantry  to  hold  stub- 
bornly any  advantage  his  dashing  horsemen  might  gain.  Rumors 
of  the  numberless  chariots  of  King  Cyrus  were  circulating  freely 
among  the  troops,  chariots  with  long  scythes  at  either  end  of  the 
axles  that  hewed  down  the  opposing  forces  mercilessly.  It  so 
happened  that  Sheshbazzar  had  never  engaged  in  a  battle 
where  these  instruments  of  warfare  were  used  and  he  was 
therefore  obliged  to  invent  a  means  of  resisting  them  without 
the  benefit  of  aid  from  experience.  Ere  morning  the  necessary 
plan  was  forthcoming,  a  plan  be  it  said  that  for  a  moment 
shook  the  confidence  of  King  Cyrus. 

Daybreak  found  the  city  of  Sippara  in  apparent  confusion. 
The  streets  were  filled  with  long  lines  of  soldiers  marching 
through  from  the  camp  on  the  west  to  the  field  of  battle  on 
the  east.  Early  as  it  was  Sheshbazzar  had  already  ridden  out 
to  an  elevation  beyond  the  walls  whence  he  could  obtain  a  good 
view  of  the  enemy's  camp.  He  saw  unmistakable  signs  of 
activity  in  the  camp  and  galloped  back  to  Sippara  intent  on 
hastening  the  attack.  He  sought  out  Nabonidos  to  consult 
with  him  but  the  king  promptly  handed  all  authority  over  to  his 
general,  saying  he  would  be  merely  a  spectator  of  the  day's 
events.  When,  therefore,  Sheshbazzar  asked  for  the  attend- 
ance of  the  Winged  Lions  his  request  was  instantly  granted. 
Placing  himself  at  the  head  of  that  body  with  which  his  previous 
life  had  been  so  identified,  he  led  the  way  without  the  city. 


324  RHESA 

Upon  the  edge  of  the  natural  plateau  selected  by  the  ancient 
builder  as  the  site  of  the  holy  city  of  Sippara,  he  stopped  and  in- 
tently watched  the  scene  about  and  below  him.  A  mile  away, 
upon  rising  ground  was  the  camp  of  the  Persians,  now  alive 
with  men  hurrying  hither  and  thither,  forming  into  columns 
that  they  might  get  into  line  before  the  army  of  Babylon  could 
strike.  Beneath  and  midway  between  the  city  and  the  hostile 
camp  were  the  advancing  hosts  of  the  Golden  City,  pushing 
forward  with  all  the  speed  possible  with  their  serried  formation. 
It  was  a  beautiful  sight,  this  long  line  of  warriors  crowding  for- 
ward, compact  and  solid,  through  the  long  grass  still  wet  with 
the  morning  dew.  Alas,  ere  the  dew  dried  off  a  sadder  moisture 
would  be  mingled  with  it,  the  blood  of  Babylon's  best  and 
noblest. 

It  was  a  critical  moment.  From  out  the  opposite  camp  now 
filed  the  countless  hosts  of  Media  and  Persia  with  their  allied 
forces.  With  the  celerity  of  long  training  column  after  column 
wheeled  into  line  of  battle  until,  some  moments  before  the 
attacking  line  could  strike,  the  solid  ranks  of  spearmen  and 
archers  were  braced  for  the  shock  and  behind  them,  stretching 
away  row  on  row  were  the  horsemen  and  chariots. 

"We  lose  the  advantage  of  surprise,"  said  Sheshbazzar  quietly, 
speaking  to  Belibus  who  was  at  his  side.  Behind  the  two  young 
men  was  a  group  of  officers  and  nobles  assigned  by  the  king  to 
duty  as  the  general's  staff  while  behind  them  still,  impatiently 
awaiting  their  opportunity  were  the  Winged  Lions. 

Another  instant  and  the  Babylonian  cavalry  broke  into  a  gal- 
lop. On  they  went  a  very  whirlwind  of  horses  and  men.  In  a 
moment  the  two  lines  came  together  and  the  leathern  breeched 
warriors  fell  back.  Slowly  but  surely  they  gave  way  before  the 
irresistible  horsemen  of  Babylon.  Behind  the  cavalry  marched 
the  solid  masses  of  infantry,  following  closely  upon  the  attack- 
ing force,  ready  at  any  moment  to  join  in  the  fray.  The  Persian 
infantry  broke  and  wheeled,  leaving  broad  avenues  through 
which  dashed  the  Persian  horse  galloping  madly.  The  Baby- 
lonian cavalry  wheeled,  leaving  the  spearmen  and  archers  to 


THE  TEST  OF  ARMS  325 

receive  the  oncoming  enemy.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  the 
Babylonian  commander  as  if  his  infantry  gave  way  before  the 
attack  of  the  enemy's  cavalry,  but  no,  as  the  lines  of  horsemen 
came  to  a  standstill  the  spearmen  of  Babylon  could  be  seen 
standing  as  the  walls  of  their  capital  city,  an  unbroken  solid 
line.  From  the  Babylonian  archers  there  now  flew  clouds  of 
arrows  carrying  death  and  panic  into  Persia's  broken  ranks. 
Watch  ye,  men  of  Babylon,  for  a  new  force  in  warfare  is  now 
coming  against  thee.  The  long  line  of  chariots  starts,  the 
broken  ranks  of  horsemen  hastily  making  room  for  the  new- 
comers. It  was  a  grand  sight.  The  sun  shone  upon  the  pol- 
ished accoutrements  of  the  horses  and  glanced  from  the  long 
cruel  scythes  that  projected  from  the  chariot  axles.  The  solid 
phalanxes  of  Babylon  awaited  silently  and  grimly  the  attack 
of  the,  to  them,  strange  branch  of  warfare,  but  they  had  their 
orders  and  were  merely  waiting  to  carry  them  out,  conscious 
that  the  genius  of  their  commander  had  provided  a  method  of 
rendering  useless  this  important  arm  of  the  enemy's  service. 

When  the  oncoming  line  of  vehicles  was  within  a  hundred 
paces  of  the  stern  men  awaiting  them,  a  shower  of  well  directed 
arrows  saluted  them.  The  archers  carried  out  their  part  well. 
Dead  and  wounded  horses  and  men  cumbered  the  field  hinder- 
ing their  uninjured  comrades.  Instantly  following  the  volley 
the  ranks  of  the  infantry  broke  into  groups  leaving  wide  spaces 
between  them,  into  which  such  chariots  as  were  not  wrecked 
dashed.  Then  the  lines  again  closed  up  and  the  chariots  were 
at  their  mercy.  King  Cyrus  watching  the  conflict  from  a  slight 
eminence  behind  his  line  was  filled  with  dismay  at  this  catas- 
trophe to  his  favorite  arm.  He  instantly  took  command  of  his 
now  reformed  cavalry  and  ordered  another  charge.  Again  that 
stern  unbending  line  beat  back  the  Persian  horsemen.  They 
were  assisted  by  the  condition  of  the  field,  cumbered  as  it  was 
with  dead  and  wounded  horses  and  disabled  chariots.  The 
archers  sent  volley  after  volley  into  the  retreating  ranks  and 
the  Babylonian  cavalry  harassed  their  flanks.  Only  the  personal 
efforts  of  the  conqueror  himself  prevented  a  rout. 


326  RHESA 

That  plan  had  failed  but  King  Cyrus  had  another,  and  after 
that  another  and  another  still.  However  he  found  his  confi-. 
dence  fast  oozing  out.  He  thought  he  had  misjudged  Na- 
bonidos.  Ah  no,  King  Cyrus,  thou  art  battling  today  against 
a  foeman  worthy  of  thy  steel,  who  had  he  assumed  command 
of  that  army  months  ago,  might  have  changed  the  history  of 
Asia  and  indeed  of  the  world.  But  the  Omnipotent  rules  and 
He  is  directing  this  Flodden  Field  of  Mesopotamia. 

After  the  failure  of  the  charge  that  he  had  led  in  person, 
Cyrus  ordered  his  infantry  forward  to  a  hand-to-hand  engage- 
ment, placing  in  the  front  his  invincible  Median  legions. 

Upon  the  opposite  elevation  Prince  Sheshbazzar  sat  silent 
and  thoughtful  watching  the  conflict  beneath  him.  Occasion- 
ally he  sent  an  aide  with  some  instructions  to  those  leading  the 
various  bodies  of  troops.  Around  him  his  officers  were  laugh- 
ing and  talking,  elated  at  the  present  aspect  of  affairs  and  con- 
fident of  success.  Many  a  word  of  compliment  was  spoken 
of  the  silent  young  commander,  but  he,  apparently  so  calm  and 
at  his  ease,  had  little  hope  of  winning  the  battle.  He  had  been 
in  the  Persian  camp  and  had  some  idea  of  the  vast,  innumer- 
able hosts  at  his  opponent's  command.  Then  too,  he  realized 
far  more  than  any  other  how  greatly  his  brave  little  army  had 
needed  a  commander  for  months  past. 

As  he  sat  deeply  intent  upon  the  scene  beneath  him  he  sud- 
denly raised  his  eyes  and  met  with  a  sight  that  brought  dismay 
to  his  heart.  The  sight  was  a  body  of  Persian  cavalry  of  such 
proportions  as  to  be  almost  innumerable,  approaching  the  Baby- 
lonian left  flank  at  a  gallop.  The  prince  acted  instantly. 

"Yaddina,  ride  thou  to  Nergalmakin  and  order  him  to  our 
support.  The  Winged  Lions  will  attack  yonder  force,"  he 
cried  pointing  to  the  flanking  column. 

The  officer  designated  dashed  off  to  carry  the  message  to  the 
commander  of  the  Babylonian  cavalry.  "Forward,  men,  at  a 
gallop."  The  prince's  command  rang  loud  and  clear. 

With  a  cry  the  Winged  Lions  were  in  motion,  the  prince  and 
Belibus  at  their  head.  Across  the  intervening  plain  they  dashed 


THE  TEST  OF  ARMS  327 

at  full  speed.  Each  man  grasped  his  battle-axe  with  stern  deter- 
mination. Not  one  but  thought  he  was  riding  to  his  death.  An 
hundred  men  against  thousands!  With  a  heroism  unsurpassed 
in  history,  Sheshbazzar  and  his  little  band  threw  themselves 
between  the  oncoming  Persian  host  and  the  devoted  lines  of 
infantry  still  holding  their  own  bravely  against  the  continued 
attacks  of  King  Cyrus's  main  army.  In  an  instant  the  two 
bodies  met  and  the  strife  became  terrific,  the  Winged  Lions 
fighting  as  became  their  name.  The  commander  realized  full 
well  the  futility  of  his  little  force  engaging  the  overwhelming 
host  that  he  had  attacked,  but  he  hoped  to  keep  the  enemy  occu- 
pied until  General  Nergalmakin's  cavalry  could  come  to  his 
support.  That  worthy  man,  either  from  jealousy  or  stupidity, 
mistook  his  orders  and  failed  to  bring  his  force  into  action. 
Thus  the  intrepid  hundred  were  left  to  their  fate,  and  who 
could  question  what  that  fate  would  be. 

Surrounded  on  all  sides  by  a  terrible  enemy,  the  men  fought 
for  their  lives.  Be  it  said  that  not  one  prisoner  did  the  Per- 
sians take  as  a  result  of  their  engagement  with  the  famous  body- 
guard. It  was  man  to  man.  Battle-axes  and  spears  mingled  in 
an  indescribable  melee.  Such  men  as  emerged  alive  from  the 
terrible  conflict  could  remember  little  that  happened.  They  only 
fought  and  fought.  Sheshbazzar  was  worthy  of  leading  such  a 
band.  He  performed  deeds  of  valor  seemingly  impossible  for  a 
single  man.  Right  and  left  he  swung  his  heavy  sword,  break- 
ing the  spears  of  his  adversaries  as  though  they  were  but  straws. 
Here  and  there  he  reined  his  horse,  ever  striving  to  reach  the 
edge  of  the  company  surrounding  them,  hoping  to  save  some  of 
his  beloved  band  from  the  death  that  seemed  inevitable. 

At  the  moment  he  saw  his  way  clear  to  dash  through  the  line 
and  escape,  only  three  men  opposing  him,  he  felt  his  horse  sink 
beneath  him.  The  animal  fell  in  a  heap  pinning  his  rider  to 
the  ground.  The  prince  gave  himself  up  for  lost.  Thoughts  of 
the  sweet  woman  who  ruled  within  his  heart  came  into  his  mind 
and  he  wondered  if  she  would  mourn  for  him.  He  dimly  saw 
a  spear  pointed  at  his  breast  and  knew  it  would  end  his  life  in 


328  RHESA 

another  moment,  but  the  thrust  never  came.  He  heard  a  sharp 
word  of  command  and  saw  the  spear  withdrawn.  He  noticed 
also  that  the  battle  seemed  over. 

"Arise,  Sheshbazzar,"  he  heard  a  voice  say.  "This  would 
indeed  be  a  sorrowful  day  were  such  a  life  as  thine  sacrificed." 

The  prince  struggled  to  his  feet  and  looked  for  the  speaker. 
Near  at  hand,  seated  upon  a  superb  gray  stallion,  was  Cyrus, 
King  of  Persia. 

"King  Cyrus,"  said  the  prince,  "again  do  I  owe  my  life  to 
thee." 

"Mention  it  not,  Sheshbazzar.  I  saw  thy  beautiful  charge 
and  knew  what  its  result  must  be,  so  I  hastened  here  to  stop 
the  slaughter  if  possible.  Thanks  be  to  the  gods  I  arrived  in 
time." 

"All  this  day  have  I  been  puzzled  at  the  manner  in  which 
thy  army  fought.  Expecting  Nabonidos  to  command  in  per- 
son I  had  thought  to  win  an  easy  victory,  but  as  soon  as  the 
battle  began  I  saw  that  I  had  a  soldier  to  deal  with.  A  few 
moments  since  a  captured  officer  informed  me  the  name  of  the 
wonderful  soldier  who  for  a  moment  made  me  despair  of  vic- 
tory." 

The  prince  bowed  silently  in  recognition  of  the  compliment. 

"I  suppose  I  am  thy  prisoner,"  he  said  a  moment  later. 

"Nay,  Prince,"  responded  the  generous  conqueror.  "Join 
thy  troops,  if  thou  canst  find  them.  Thou  hast  fought  a  good 
fight  but  my  numbers  and  my  destiny  were  against  thee.  My 
armies  are  at  this  moment  marching  into  Sippara,  while  thy 
king  and  the  remnant  of  thy  heroic  force  are  hastening  toward 
Babylon." 

"A  horse  for  this  soldier,"  he  commanded. 

Sheshbazzar  accepted  the  animal  a  soldier  brought  him  and 
mounted  at  once. 

"Again  I  accept  thy  kindness,  King  Cyrus.  I  trust  the  day 
will  come  when  I  can  show  my  gratitude  to  thee,"  he  said. 

"Never  fear.  God  has  a  work  for  thee  yet,  Sheshbazzar,"  an- 
swered the  conqueror. 


THE  TEST  OF  ARMS  329 

The  prince  thanked  his  generous  enemy  and,  turning  his 
horses  head  toward  Babylon,  rode  slowly  away  He  looked 
about  for  Belibus  and  the  Winged  Lions  but  found  no  trace 
of  them. 

The  mount  furnished  by  King  Cyrus  was  not  one  he  would 
have  selected  from  his  private  stables  to  bestow  upon  a  friend. 
He  was  tall  and  bony  but  like  many  unhandsome  steeds  was 
capable  of  considerable  speed.  The  prince  urged  him  forward. 
He  was  anxious  to  reach  the  head  of  the  retreating  army  and 
lead  it  into  Babylon  in  fairly  good  order.  He  took  the  defeat 
philosophically;  indeed  he  had  expected  it.  To  soften  the  bit- 
terness of  it  was  the  joy  of  having  put  up  a  good  fight.  He  was 
proud  of  his  army  and  its  heroic  struggle  against  overwhelming 
ing  odds.  He  was  still  hopeful  of  maintaining  a  desperate  de- 
fense behind  the  impregnable  walls  of  the  capital. 

Occasionally  he  passed  a  group  of  soldiers  hastening  toward 
Babylon.  For  all  he  had  the  same  command:  "Return  to 
Babylon  with  all  speed." 

Thus  he  rode  on  until  nightfall,  when  tethering  his  horse  to 
a  solitary  tree,  hf  threw  himself  upon  the  grass,  exhausted. 
Two  nights  without  sleep  and  one  day  without  food  was  more 
than  even  his  iron  frame  could  stand. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  he  rode  into  Babylon,  a  city 
wild  and  panic-stricken.  Reports  of  the  great  defeat  were  cir- 
culating freely  through  the  streets,  gaining  additional  size  and 
details  with  each  repetition.  The  inhabitants  were  terrified, 
momentarily  expecting  the  approach  of  the  victorious  Persians. 
At  the  gateway  the  prince  passed  a  solitary  group  of  soldiers 
who  were  just  entering. 

"Where  is  the  rest  of  the  army?"  he  asked. 

"At  Borsippa,  sir,"  responded  an  officer. 

"Borsippa?"  he  cried,  "who  ordered  it  there?" 

"The  king,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

The  prince  made  no  comment  but  rode  on,  sad  and  dis- 
couraged. Nabonidos  had  closed  his  reign  with  the  greatest 
blunder  of  his  life. 


330  RHESA 

Not  knowing  where  now  to  turn,  the  prince  ended  by  rid- 
ing through  the  city  to  the  house  of  Nehum.  In  his  present 
gloomy  state  of  mind  he  felt  nothing  would  so  uplift  him  as 
an  hour's  interview  with  his  beloved.  He  went  directly  to 
the  little  summer  house  so  interwoven  with  previous  memories 
to  him,  but  it  was  deserted.  Retracing  his  steps  he  approached 
the  front  entrance  of  the  dwelling.  He  mounted  to  the  ver- 
anda and  knocked  loudly  upon  the  door-casing.  After  a  wait 
of  some  moments  his  summons  were  answered  by  a  servant. 
When  he  asked  for  Orma  she  seemed  bewildered  and  disap- 
peared, leaving  him  standing  nonplussed  upon  the  porch.  A 
moment  later  Nehum  came  haltingly  through  the  hall,  bowed 
and  aged.  His  face  lighted  with  surprise  at  beholding  his 
visitor. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  thee  alive,  Prince,"  he  said,  "but  thy  pres- 
ence shows  me  clearly  that  what  I  have  suspected  is  true.  My 
daughter  has  been  torn  from  my  bosom  a  second  time." 

"Tell  me  all,"  cried  the  prince,  aghast  at  the  information. 

"Last  evening  a  soldier  came  to  my  house  and  said  the  army 
had  met  with  defeat.  He  said  that  thou  wft"t  wounded  unto 
death  and  had  sent  for  my  daughter  to  come  and  see  thee  while 
there  was  yet  time.  He  said  thou  wouldst  surely  die  and  if  she 
wished  to  see  thee  alive  she  must  go  at  once.  She  went  and 
has  not  returned.  Thy  presence  here  alive  and  uninjured  proves 
the  story  to  have  been  false,  to  have  been  used  as  a  means  to  lure 
my  daughter  away." 

"Good  Nehum,  someone  shall  die  for  this,"  cried  the  prince, 
his  dark  face  livid  with  passion. 


THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR  33, 

% 

CHAPTER  XLI 

THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR 

Shortly  before  noon  of  the  second  day  following  the  defeat 
of  the  Babylonian  army  at  Sippara,  the  vanguard  of  the  Per- 
sian host  reached  Babylon  and  before  nightfall  the  next  follow- 
ing day  the  investment  of  the  city  was  complete.  In  order  to 
realize  the  magnitude  of  King  Cyrus's  army  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  remember  that  the  total  length  of  the  great  outer  wall 
was  fifty-six  miles.  The  people  realized  at  once  that  they  were 
in  for  a  siege  and  no  doubt  a  long  one.  Such  walls  as  theirs 
could  be  neither  pierced  nor  scaled  and  only  by  strategy  or 
starvation  could  the  city  be  taken.  All  the  gates  had  been 
promptly  closed  and  the  guards  upon  the  walls  trebled. 
Throughout  the  day  following  the  battle  small  parties  of 
soldiers  to  whom  the  king's  orders  were  unknown  or  whom 
Sheshbazzar  had  directed  to  Babylon,  drifted  into  the  city. 
Among  them  came  Belibus  and  some  twenty  members  of  the 
Winged  Lions,  all  that  remained  of  that  once  proud  organiza- 
tion. 

Sheshbazzar  had  ridden  directly  from  the  house  of  Nehum 
to  the  palace  and  had  had  an  interview  with  Belshazzar.  His 
first  impulse  had  been  to  charge  the  boy  king  with  Orma's 
abduction  and  demand  her  release,  but  his  second  thought  told 
him  such  a  step  would  be  unwise.  He  decided  it  would  be  bet- 
ter not  to  put  Belshazzar  upon  his  guard  by  such  action.  He 
determined  to  secretly  ascertain  the  location  of  her  new  prison, 
rightly  judging  that  the  villa  at  the  Hanging  Gardens  would 
not  be  used  a  second  time.  He  therefore  said  nothing  of  the 
subject  uppermost  in  his  mind  although  hot  words  were  con- 
tinually upon  his  tongue  demanding  utterance.  He  had  quietly 
informed  the  king  that  he  was  there  as  Commander-in-Chief  of 
the  army  to  receive  such  orders  as  the  king  desired  to  give  in 
regard  to  the  defence  of  the  city.  The  boy  fidgeted  uneasily 


332  RHESA 

at  first,  but  not  knowing  what  else  to  say,  he  at  length  com- 
mitted the  full  charge  of  the  defence  into  the  prince's  hands. 
Armed  with  this  authority  Sheshbazzar  at  once  placed  himself 
in  touch  with  such  remnants  of  the  army  as  were  within  the 
walls.  All  told  these  forces  amounted  to  less  than  six  thou- 
sand men,  including  the  two  thousand  always  stationed  in  the 
city  to  guard  the  walls.  In  an  emergency  he  could  call  upon 
the  palace  and  city  guards,  numbering  in  all  about  five  hundred 
men. 

His  first  official  act  was  the  issuance  of  a  proclamation  call- 
ing upon  all  able-bodied  citizens  to  volunteer  for  service  in  this 
hour  of  their  nation's  peril.  He  established  himself  in  the  old 
palace,  the  headquarters  of  the  Winged  Lions,  and  from  this 
central  fortress  directed  the  work  of  defence.  The  ever-faith- 
ful Belibus,  one  arm  disabled  by  a  severe  sword  cut,  was  at  his 
side  ready  to  carry  out  any  order  his  beloved  superior  might 
have  for  him,  from  running  an  errand  to  leading  a  forlorn 
hope.  A  small  nature  would  have  been  jealous  in  Belibus's 
place.  The  elevation  of  Sheshbazzar  had  thrown  a  blanket 
over  whatever  ambitions  the  commander  of  the  Winged  Lions 
had.  During  the  fight  at  Sippara  he  had  behaved  with  his 
usual  gallantry,  but  he  had  been  overshadowed  by  the  person- 
ality of  the  prince.  No  such  thoughts,  however,  found  lodg- 
ment in  the  great  heart  of  Belibus.  His  love  and  admiration 
for  the  man  at  once  his  commander  and  his  friend  left  no  room 
for  such  unworthy  feelings. 

As  a  result  of  the  prince's  proclamation  many  citizens  re- 
ported at  the  old  palace.  All  such  were  gladly  welcomed,  fur- 
nished with  arms  and  assigned  to  duty.  The  first  recruit 
enlisted  was  the  venerable  Neboakhu  who  marched  to  the  old 
palace  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  priests. 

"We  are  men  of  peace,"  he  said,  "but  in  times  like  these  all 
men  must  learn  to  fight." 

On  the  afternoon  of  June  seventeenth  (the  day  the  Persians 
completed  the  lines  about  the  city)  the  two  young  soldiers  were 
together  in  the  prince's  apartment  in  the  old  palace,  discussing 


THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR  333 

the  events  of  the  past  few  days.  Sheshbazzar  reclined  upon  a 
divan  and  his  companion  paced  up  and  down  before  him.  At 
length  their  conversation  turned  upon  the  present,  its  problems 
and  its  dangers. 

"I  would  we  had  men  enough  to  make  a  sortie  occasionally. 
This  being  cooped  up  within  walls  to  be  starved  into  submission 
is  disheartening  to  a  soldier,"  said  Belibus. 

"Starvation  is  not  a  very  present  danger,  my  Belibus,"  re- 
plied the  prince.  "There  are  fields  enough  between  the  walls  to 
keep  us  from  actual  starvation.  Of  course  it  will  be  a  hard- 
ship for  such  meat  eaters  as  we  Babylonians  to  live  on  grain 
alone  but  we  can  do  it  rather  than  surrender  our  city." 

"Then  thou  hast  hopes  of  tiring  out  our  enemies?" 

"Nay,  Belibus,  I  entertain  no  false  hopes.  I  have  confidence 
in  the  strength  of  our  walls  to  withstand  breaching  and  in  their 
height  to  withstand  scaling.  Neither  do  I  fear  starvation,  but, 
O  my  Belibus,  I  have  no  confidence  in  my  fellow  men.  For 
aught  I  know  there  may  be  a  traitor  for  every  gate  that  pierces 
our  walls,  willing  and  ready  to  open  them  for  the  enemy.  Our 
force  is  sufficient  to  prevent  the  enemy  breaking  in,  but  once 
a  traitor  lets  him  in  we  are  powerless.  Why  think,  we  haven't 
an  hundred  men  to  a  gate." 

"I  know  it,  and  the  thought  well  nigh  destroys  my  courage. 
This  helplessness  is  sufficient  to  unnerve  a  man." 

"Right,  Belibus,  but  it  shall  not  unnerve  we  two.  We  will 
be  the  last  to  surrender.  As  long  as  resistance  availeth  we  two 
will  resist." 

"We  will  not  bend  our  knees  to  Cyrus,  the  tyrant." 

"Hold,  Belibus,"  said  the  prince  quickly,  "that  name  becomes 
him  not.  Never  lived  there  nobler  enemy." 

"Thou  knowest  him?" 

"Yea  and  so  dost  thou,  Belibus." 

"Nay,  sir,  thou  art  mistaken,"  replied  the  soldier,  who  had 
not  seen  the  rescue  of  Sheshbazzar  at  Sippara. 

"I  say  unto  thee,  Belibus,  thou  hast  both  spoken  and  eaten 
with  Cyrus,  King  of  Persia," 


334  RHESA 

The  prince  smiled  at  Belibus's  bewilderment.  After  enjoy- 
ing it  a  moment  he  enlightened  him. 

"Rememberest  thou  not  the  spearman  who  saved  me  from  the 
lion  out  yonder  on  the  desert  ?" 

"Rastagus?"  cried  Belibus. 

"The  man,"  replied  the  prince. 

"He  is  Cyrus,  King  of  Persia?"  asked  Belibus,  unable  to  be- 
lieve the  information. 

"The  same,  called  by  some  the  Conqueror  of  the  World." 

"And  I  fear  that  world  will  include  Babylon,"  said  Belibus. 

"I  fear  so,  but  not  if  we  can  prevent  it,"  said  the  prince 
soberly. 

Further  conversation  was  prevented  for  the  moment  by  the 
entrance  of  a  messenger  from  Belshazzar.  He  presented  an 
invitation  for  the  two  soldiers  to  attend  a  great  banquet  in  the 
palace  that  evening.  The  day  was  the  annual  feast  of  Tammuz. 
and  everywhere  in  the  city  were  celebrations  and  feastings. 
Sheshbazzar  read  the  message  through  in  silence  and  handed  it 
to  Belibus  without  comment.  The  other  read  it  also.  As  he 
finished  reading  he  looked  up  and  their  eyes  met.  Each  read 
the  other's  answer.  The  prince  turned  to  the  servant  and  dis- 
missed him. 

"A  pretty  time  for  his  feasting!"  exclaimed  Belibus,  almost 
before  the  servant  was  out  of  hearing. 

"What  could  Nabonidos  have  been  thinking  of  when  he 
ordered  the  army  to  Borsippa?"  exclaimed  the  prince. 

"With  that  army  behind  these  walls  we  might  hope  to  tire 
Cyrus  out,"  he  continued. 

"Shalt  thou  attend  the  banquet?"  asked  Belibus. 

"Nay,  but  I  wish  thou  wouldst  go,"  replied  the  prince. 

"I  will  go  if  such  are  thy  orders,  but  I  would  prefer  stay- 
ing away,"  said  Belibus. 

"I  ask  thee  to  go  but  give  no  commands.  I  desire  to  receive 
a  report  of  what  takes  place  at  the  banquet.  I  would  go  myself 
but  I  have  other  affairs  demanding  my  attention  tonight." 

Consequently  at  the  appointed  hour  upon  the  evening  of  that 


THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR  335 

eventful  day,  Belibus  attired  as  became  a  man  of  his  position, 
left  for  the  palace.  He  bade  Sheshbazzar  farewell  reluctantly. 
Had  he  consulted  his  own  inclination  his  presence  would  never 
have  graced  Belshazzar's  feast,  but  to  him  a  request  was  a  com- 
mand. 

Immediately  after  the  departure  of  Belibus,  Sheshbazzar  at- 
tired himself  in  a  simple  military  costume  and  armed  himself 
with  two  daggers  and  the  same  heavy  sword  that  he  had  wielded 
at  Sippara.  His  attire  complete  he  quietly  left  the  old  palace, 
seen  only  by  the  single  soldier  on  guard  at  the  entrance  and 
started  on  a  brisk  walk  across  the  city.  He  continued  in  the 
direction  he  first  took  until  his  headquarters  were  out  of  sight. 
Then  he  doubled  on  his  tracks,  this  time  heading  for  the  river 
bank.  At  the  street  nearest  the  river  he  turned  north  and  con- 
tinued his  journey,  keeping  parallel  with  the  river's  course.  He 
walked  briskly  as  a  man  who  has  business  on  hand.  Had  he 
business  not  connected  with  the  city's  defence?  What  man 
whose  sweetheart  was  imprisoned  he  knew  not  where  would 
not  neglect  his  duty  for  one  brief  evening  in  order  to  learn 
something  concerning  her?  For  Sheshbazzar  had  a  clue, 
though  a  very  faint  one,  as  to  the  location  of  Orma's  prison,  and 
he  was  now  bent  on  learning  more.  In  order  to  be  free  to 
carry  on  this  expedition  he  had  desired  Belibus  to  attend  the 
banquet. 

It  happened  upon  the  morning  of  this  very  day  that  a  servant 
from  the  palace  had  been  admitted  to  his  presence  and  requested 
a  private  interview.  The  prince  requested  Belibus  and  a  sol- 
dier who  was  present  to  withdraw.  After  they  were  gone  the 
following  conversation  took  place. 

"Sir,"  said  the  servant,  "thou  knowest  the  location  of  the 
Wine  Quay  upon  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river?" 

"I  do,"  answered  the  prince,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

"I  shall  be  there  tonight  in  charge  of  the  wines  for  the 
king's  banquet.  Come  to  me  there  and  I  will  reveal  unto  thee 
the  whereabouts  of  a  certain  Jewish  maiden." 


336  RHESA 

"But  why  canst  thou  not  give  me  the  information  here  and 
now?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Because,  sir,  I  cannot  direct  thee  in  such  a  manner  as  would 
enable  thee  to  find  her  alone;  but  tonight,  after  the  wine  has 
all  been  hoisted  into  the  palace,  I  can  conduct  thee  to  the  place." 

Sheshbazzar  eyed  the  fellow  suspiciously  but  he  seemed 
straightforward  and  honest  and  the  prince  believed  him. 

So  while  Belshazzar  and  his  nobles  feasted  Sheshbazzar 
was  seeking  the  Wine  Quay,  where  the  palace  wine  bins  were 
located.  After  crossing  the  river  by  means  of  a  boat,  the 
prince  turned  down  a  narrow  lane  that  skirted  the  palace  mound 
and  led  down  to  the  quays  beneath  it  where  the  palace  supplies 
were  received.  First  he  passed  the  Meat  Quay  and  then  the 
Grain  Quay.  Next  came  the  one  he  sought.  He  could  not  miss 
it,  for  a  small  lamp  burned  over  the  door  leading  into  the  wine 
vaults.  He  stepped  through  the  low  doorway  and  stopped  a 
moment  to  listen  before  proceeding  farther.  He  was  in  a  long 
vaulted  passage  that  led  directly  into  the  wine  chambers  hol- 
lowed out  in  the  very  heart  of  the  huge  mound  upon  whose  sur- 
face the  palace  was  built. 

The  first  feeling  of  doubt  came  over  him.  If  he  had  an 
enemy  who  wished  him  ill  now  was  that  enemy's  opportunity. 
Here  a  quick  flash  of  a  knife,  a  groan,  the  dragging  of  a  body 
over  the  pavement,  a  splash  and  all  would  be  over  with  none 
to  bear  witness.  He  waited  before  venturing  into  the  long 
passage,  thinking  the  servant  would  come  to  the  entrance.  At 
length  hearing  nothing  he  decided  to  run  what  risk  there 
might  be  and  proceeded  along  the  passage  to  the  vaults  where 
he  knew  the  man  would  be  at  work. 

He  advanced  cautiously,  keeping  close  to  one  of  the  walls  and 
moving  in  a  half-sideways  manner  that  he  might  look  in  both 
directions.  He  was  surprised  at  himself.  Usually  he  was  a 
fearless  man  but  this  night  he  seemed  to  have  lost  confidence. 
Every  corner  held  an  assassin,  every  shadow  seemed  a  crouch- 
ing figure,  but  still  he  kept  on,  determined  to  risk  everything 
that  he  might  obtain  news  of  Orma.  The  servant  who  was  to 


THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR  337 

give  that  information  he  had  never  seen  until  that  morning  but 
still  he  had  confidence  in  him.  At  each  turn  in  the  passage  he 
stopped  and  listened.  All  was  quiet  save  for  the  faint  ripple 
of  the  river.  He  suddenly  thought  this  quietness  to  be  strange. 
If  a  man  was  working  yonder  amid  the  wine  sacks  why  did  he 
make  no  noise? 

The  prince  stopped  as  this  thought  came  to  him.  His  mind 
dwelt  upon  the  banquets  he  had  attended  in  the  palace  and  he 
strove  to  remember  the  mode  of  handling  wine  upon  those  occa- 
sions. Suddenly  his  mind  reverted  to  Belshazzar's  coronation 
banquet  and  an  incident  connected  with  it.  He  now  remem- 
bered clearly  that  when  he  was  called  away  from  the  banquet 
by  the  queen's  message  the  servant  conducted  him  through  a 
serving  room,  and  he  remembered  that  room  to  have  been 
filled  with  wine  sacks  which  the  servants  were  emptying  into 
jars  and  vessels.  Therefore  the  wine  was  taken  from  the 
vaults  before  the  banquet  began,  probably  in  the  daytime! 

He  now  felt  certain  a  trap  had  been  laid  for  him  and  he 
determined  to  save  himself  if  it  was  not  too  late.  He  began  to 
retrace  his  steps  toward  the  entrance.  Slowly  and  cautiously 
he  felt  his  way  along  the  damp  walls,  moving  in  a  shuffling 
manner  that  his  footsteps  would  cause  no  sound  in  the  echoing 
passage.  He  was  cool  but  no  man  in  his  position  could  prevent 
a  certain  feeling  of  nervousness  coming  over  him.  He  was  in 
a  dark  passage  far  away  from  the  outside  world  and  perhaps 
surrounded  by  assassins  whose  numbers  he  had  no  means  of 
knowing.  With  his  right  hand  he  felt  along  the  walls,  in  the 
left  he  carried  one  unsheathed  dagger  and  held  the  other  in  his 
teeth  that  he  might  grasp  it  instantly  should  it  be  needed. 

Thus  slowly  he  made  his  way  back  through  the  passage 
toward  the  door  now  becoming  visible  by  the  faint  rays  of 
the  light  burning  above  it.  Just  before  reaching  the  entrance 
he  stopped  again  to  listen.  All  was  still.  Even  the  ripple  of 
the  mighty  waters  seemed  hushed.  He  began  to  hope  there  was 
yet  time  for  him  to  escape  ere  the  assassin,  if  there  was  one, 
should  appear.  Stop,  Sheshbazzar!  What  hearest  thou?  Lis- 


338  RHESA 

ten!     Stealthy   footsteps  approach!     Back  man  for  thy  life! 
Crouch  deep  in  the  shadow  if  thou  desirest  to  behold  thy  friends 


again 


Through  the  dimly  lighted  doorway  he  saw  two  men  ap- 
proach, one  armed  with  a  sword,  the  other  with  a  battle-axe. 

"Ha,"  he  thought,  "they  honor  me  by  sending  two." 

"Is  he  here?"  he  heard  one  of  the  men  ask. 

"He  must  be.  He  passed  around  the  mound  nearly  a  half 
hour  ago." 

"Was  he  armed?" 

"He  was,  with  a  sword." 

The  questioner  growled,  "He's  a  dangerous  man  with  a 
sword." 

"Yea,  in  a  fair  fight  he  is,  but  this  is  not  a  fair  fight." 

"Thou  likest  not  the  job?" 

"Nay,  nor  dost  thou.  I've  nothing  against  the  man.  He  has 
never  injured  me." 

"Then  let's  clear  out." 

"And  get  our  throats  cut  for  our  pains.  No  Pantam,  it's 
either  he  or  us  and  I  love  myself  the  better.  Then,  think  of 
the  reward!" 

During  this  low  spoken  conversation  they  were  standing  just 
within  the  doorway,  but  now  they  had  gathered  the  resolution 
for  the  deed  and  started  forward.  Sheshbazzar  removed  the 
dagger  from  his  mouth  and  awaited  their  coming.  There  would 
be  death  here  tonight! 

In  a  moment  they  were  close  to  him.  One  brushed  against 
him  and  turned  quickly.  There  was  a  cry  and  a  struggle.  One 
man  went  down  but  the  struggle  continued.  It  was  life  and 
death,  but  it  was  now  a  fair  fight,  man  to  man,  with  the 
chances  against  the  prince,  for  Sheshbazzar,  those  arms  that 
encircle  thee  are  the  strongest  in  Babylon.  Back  and  forth, 
round  and  round  they  struggle,  each  watching  a  chance  to 
strike.  First  one  has  the  advantage  and  then  the  other.  The 
only  witness  is  dead,  pierced  to  the  heart  by  the  sure  thrust  of 
the  prince's  dagger,  but  though  dead  he  is  still  a  participant  in 


THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR  339 

the  struggle  and  he  it  is  who  decides  it.  Sheshbazzar  felt  him- 
self weakening  and  knew  he  must  win  at  once  if  at  all.  He 
threw  his  whole  weight  forward  and  then  jumped  quickly  back- 
ward, thus  freeing  himself  from  his  antagonist's  embrace.  The 
advantage  was  only  momentary.  The  ruffian  came  for  him  again 
in  an  instant,  but  as  he  stepped  forward  one  foot  caught  in  his 
dead  companion's  gown  and  he  fell  to  the  floor.  Quick  as  a 
flash  Sheshbazzar  drew  his  sword  and  before  the  fellow  could 
rise,  the  prince  was  standing  over  him.  He  placed  one  foot 
upon  the  prostrate  man's  chest  and  was  prepared  to  thrust  the 
sword  home. 

"Spare  me,"  begged  the  man. 

"Who  are  thou  come  here  upon  such  an  errand?"  asked  the 
prince. 

"I  am  Shemakin,"  he  answered  humbly. 

"Ha,  Shemakin,  this  is  our  third  meeting.  Once  thou  be- 
trayed me  and  twice  hast  thou  attempted  my  life  and  I  know 
of  no  reason  why  I  should  not  rid  the  world  of  thee.  It  would 
be  the  better  by  one  villain  less." 

"For  the  love  of  Babylon  spare  me,"  begged  the  frightened 
man. 

"Why  for  the  love  of  Babylon?" 

"Because,  sir,  I  can  tell  thee  of  something  affecting  the  very 
life  of  the  city." 

"Speak  at  once." 

"Nay,  not  when  thy  sword  is  so  sharp  against  my  throat." 

The  prince  raised  his  sword  a  trifle  but  he  remained  pre- 
pared to  give  a  quick  and  fatal  thrust. 

"Now,  Shemakin,  speak  out  or  I  plunge  this  sword  into  thy 
treacherous  carcass." 

"Know  then,  Prince,  the  river  gates  are  open  tonight." 

The  prince  staggered  backward  and  had  the  prostrate  villain 
been  quick  he  could  have  regained  his  feet,  but  it  was  only 
a  moment  until  Shemakin  felt  the  sword  at  his  throat  again. 

"Tell  me  all,"  commanded  the  prince. 

"I  know  but  little,  but  on  that  little  hangs  the  fate  of  the 


340  RHESA 

city.  Vulmaran  has  opened  the  river  gates  that  the  Persians 
may  enter." 

"They  have  no  boats." 

"Nay,  sir,  but  they  have  shovels  and  two  hours  with  that 
tool  in  the  hands  of  many  will  open  the  old  canal  that  was 
dammed  up  when  the  Shebil  was  dug.  This  will  throw  the  river 
waters  into  the  canal  and  they  will  flow  down  through  the 
Yapur  Shapu  (great  reservoir)  and  the  lower  canal,  reentering 
their  own  bed  below  the  city.  If  thou  doubtest  me,  sir,  step  out- 
side and  look  upon  the  river.  See  thou  how  deep  the  waters  are. 
Go,  fear  me  no  more.  Thou  hast  spared  my  life  and  henceforth 
I  am  thy  friend." 

The  repentant  murderer  spoke  earnestly,  convincing  the 
prince  of  his  sincerity.  The  latter  passed  out  through  the  door- 
way to  the  quay  and  stood  leaning  against  a  buttress  of  the 
palace  mound,  gazing  down  upon  the  river.  The  mighty 
Euphrates  had  surely  dwindled!  From  a  swift,  deep  stream, 
rushing  onward  impatient  to  escape  from  its  brick  prison,  it 
had  become  a  sickly  brook,  feebly  crawling  upon  its  muddy 
bottom.  Already  men  could  walk  upon  its  bed.  Shemakin 
came  and  stood  beside  him. 

"Shemakin,  canst  thou  close  the  south  gates  while  I  go  to 
the  north  ?"  asked  the  prince. 

The  man  smiled  at  the  question. 

"Why,"  he  answered,  "it  would  take  ten  men  to  close  the 
gates.  Besides  now  that  the  river  has  been  diverted  they  can 
come  in  under  the  gates." 

"Then  why  was  it  necessary  for  Vulmaran  to  open  them?" 

"That  I  know  not,  unless  Cyrus  feared  the  waters  would 
disobey  his  will." 

The  prince  turned  away,  sick  and  faint  at  heart.  The  very 
ground  seemed  giving  way  beneath  him.  He  felt  himself  alone 
and  powerless  to  avert  the  impending  catastrophe.  He  alone 
knew  of  the  treachery  and  he  alone  must  take  steps  to  resist 
the  Persians.  The  impulse  to  fight  them  at  every  street  corner 
came  to  him  and  he  turned  to  depart,  intending  to  call  his  forces 


THE  WORK  OF  A  TRAITOR  341 

together.  He  walked  rapidly  across  the  quay  and  up  through 
the  narrow  lane.  Before  the  realization  of  his  burden  and 
responsibility  all  remembrances  of  Shemakin  faded  away.  As 
the  prince  turned  into  the  street  a  group  of  soldiers  passed  him, 
reeling  and  maudlin.  His  heart  sank  within  him  and  again 
he  was  on  the  point  of  giving  up.  He  was  alone,  not  only 
against  the  Persians  but  also  against  the  inaction  and  de- 
bauchery of  the  city  itself. 

He  hurried  onward,  over  the  drawbridge  and  down  the  op- 
posite bank  of  the  river.  At  the  first  street  he  turned,  passing 
down  a  lane  that  led  to  the  river  bank.  He  entered  a  small 
doorway  in  the  wall  and  stood  in  the  shadow  gazing  down  into 
the  nearly  dry  bed  of  the  stream.  There  was  no  longer  even  a 
brook,  only  a  few  scattered  pools  with  tiny  rivulets  connecting 
them.  He  glanced  up  at  the  sky.  It  was  dark  and  lowering, 
and  scarcely  a  star  was  to  be  seen.  Fit  night  for  a  nation's 
overthrow ! 

As  he  stood  leaning  against  the  wall,  he  chanced  to  look 
down  again  into  the  vacant  canal  where  once  a  mighty  river 
flowed.  He  fancied  he  saw  a  shadow.  A  moment  later  he 
heard  a  dull  thud  as  the  top  of  a  ladder  struck  the  wall.  He 
looked  again  more  sharply  than  before.  Even  through  the 
gloom  he  could  see  a  man  climb  up  the  ladder.  Another  fol- 
lowed and  another.  One  by  one  he  saw  the  dim  ghostly  figures 
rise  from  the  blackness  and  gather  in  a  knot  upon  the  quay 
below  him.  He  stood  transfixed  and  helpless,  his  very  vitality 
undermined  by  the  sense  of  overwhelming  defeat.  He  realized 
that  he  was  too  late.  Nothing  that  he  could  do  would  stem 
the  rising  tide.  He  remained  watching  them  as  stealthily, 
silently  they  emerged  from  the  gloom,  clambered  up  the  lad- 
ders and  formed  columns  upon  the  embankment.  He  pressed 
closer  into  the  projecting  angle  and  watched  them  spellbound. 
It  was  uncanny,  spectral,  this  quiet  ghostly  entrance  of  a  con- 
quering army.  He  barely  realized  its  significance. 

He  could  hear  the  steady  splash,  splash  of  many  footsteps 
as  column  after  column  passed  him  to  enter  the  streets  at  points 


342  RHESA 

farther  up  the  stream.  He  continued  standing  in  the  same 
position  for  more  than  an  hour.  During  all  that  time  a  steady 
stream  of  eerie  figures  emerged,  apparently  from  nowhere  and 
formed  themselves  into  serried  ranks.  At  last  he  heard  a  low 
spoken  word  of  command,  and  a  crash  as  a  street  gate  gave  way 
before  the  heavy  ram.  In  another  moment  he  heard  the  steady 
tramp,  tramp  of  many  feet  as  the  column  nearest  him  got  under 
way.  They  were  starting  upon  their  career  of  blood,  booty 
and  lust.  The  thought  stirred  him  to  action,  for  on  the  instant 
came  the  remembrance  of  the  banquet  at  the  palace.  Without 
an  instant's  hesitation  he  ran  up  the  quay,  through  the  small 
doorway  and  up  the  street  toward  the  drawbridge.  He  hoped 
to  reach  the  palace  in  time  to  convey  a  warning  to  the  guests. 


CHAPTER  XLII 
BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST 

Shortly  before  the  hour  set  for  the  commencement  of  Bel- 
shazzar's  famous  banquet  the  young  soldier  Belibus  quietly  en- 
tered the  great  hall.  He  took  up  his  station  near  the  entrance 
where  half  hidden  by  the  huge  draperies  he  could  gaze  upon 
the  wonderful  scene  before  him.  This  was  the  young  king's 
first  attempt  at  entertaining  on  his  own  account  and  he  was 
determined  his  banquet  should  exceed  in  magnificence  anything 
in  that  line  his  father  had  ever  attempted.  To  this  end  the 
thousand  employes  of  the  royal  establishment  had  been  labor- 
ing incessantly  for  several  days.  The  arts  of  the  decorators, 
the  skill  of  the  cooks,  the  care  of  the  wine-tenders  and  the 
genius  of  the  musicians  all  contributed  to  a  result  at  once  mag- 
nificent and  pleasing. 

All  men  of  note  in  the  city,  whatever  their  politics  or  beliefs, 
had  been  bidden  to  the  feast.  Priests,  nobles,  soldiers  and  the 
wealthiest  of  the  business  men  all  had  received  the  tiny  clay 


BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST  343 

tablet  of  invitation.*  Belibus  stood  quietly  in  his  corner  view- 
ing the  hall,  its  sumptuous  decorations  and  fittings  and  the 
guests.  The  tables,  four  in  number,  ran  the  entire  length  of 
the  room  and  were  so  near  together  as  to  leave  only  a  narrow 
lane  between  them  for  the  servants  to  pass  through  as  they 
waited  upon  the  guests.  Gaudy  draperies  hung  in  graceful 
festoons  from  the  paneled  ceiling.  Plants  and  flowers  were 
raised  in  banks  of  beauty  along  the  walls  and  small  nosegays 
of  blossoms  graced  the  tables.  The  utensils  were  all  of  gold 
and  silver.  Light  was  supplied  by  myriads  of  small  lamps  set 
wherever  a  space  afforded  them  room.  Filled  as  was  the  room 
with  gaily  attired  noblemen  who  lent  to  the  scene  a  kaleidoscopic 
air  of  ever-changing  color,  it  was  a  sight  worth  beholding. 

The  guests  were  standing  about  in  groups  awaiting  the 
signal  to  be  seated.  Few  of  them  were  known  to  the  young 
soldier  who  was  of  humble  birth,  his  present  position  due  en- 
tirely to  his  own  exertions.  There  standing  in  a  group  were 
Neboakhu,  Egibi  the  Hebrew  banker,  and  Nebuzaradan,  the 
old  Babylonian  general  and  the  only  living  officer  of  that  won- 
derful army  with  which  the  great  Nebuchadnezzar  overran  all 
Asia.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  hall  was  a  company  of  stu- 
dents from  the  temple,  while  grouped  about  Belshazzar  at 
the  head  of  the  central  table  were  the  dissolute  young  nobles 
he  had  gathered  about  him  since  his  father's  departure.  Belibus 
felt  himself  alone.  Scarcely  a  man  in  the  whole  assemblage 
was  personally  known  to  him.  Spent  as  had  been  his  life  in 

*  Daniel  informs  us  there  were  a  thousand  present  and,  as  he  is  our 
only  authority,  we  must  accept  his  statement,  allowing  only  for  his 
applying  that  term  merely  to  express  a  large  company  rather  than  to 
indicate  any  specific  number  of  persons.  Knowing  as  we  do  that  the 
bulk  of  the  army  and  therefore  its  officers  was  absent  from  the  city 
at  the  time  it  seems  scarcely  probable  that  a  thousand  persons  ( accord- 
ing to  our  meaning  of  the  term)  of  rank  entitling  them  to  sit  at  meat 
with  royalty  could  be  gathered  together.  However  it  is  possible  that 
Belshazzar,  in  order  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  masses,  had  invited 
many  of  low  birth.  The  fact  of  his  sending  out  of  the  hall  for  the 
wise  men  shows  they  were  not  present  and  they  constituted  a  con- 
siderable class. 


344  RHESA 

camps  and  campaigning,  he  had  had  little  opportunity  for 
mingling  in  society. 

Gradually  the  numbers  of  the  guests  increased.  A  steady 
stream  of  richly  attired  men  poured  through  the  great  arched 
entrance  to  the  hall.  At  last  Belshazzar  left  the  raised  dais 
upon  which  he  had  been  sitting  and  advanced  to  the  table.  His 
action  was  a  signal  for  the  guests  to  seek  their  places.  It  re- 
quired some  moments  to  assign  the  guests  to  seats  according  to 
their  rank.  By  this  assignment  Belibus  was  placed  well  toward 
the  foot  of  the  largest  table,  the  one  at  whose  head  was  placed 
the  king's  richly  carved  chair.  When  all  was  ready  Belshazzar 
seated  himself,  a  signal  for  the  guests  to  do  likewise.  The  ban- 
quet was  served  immediately.  Course  followed  course  in  rapid 
succession,  the  viands  covering  the  entire  range  of  food  sup- 
plies obtainable,  from  huge  joints  of  auroch  meat  to  pies  filled 
with  the  tiniest  of  birds.  Fish,  meat,  vegetables,  fruit,  all 
varieties  of  edible  things  were  represented  and  with  the  ma- 
terial at  their  disposal  the  cooks  had  worked  wonders. 

After  the  remains  of  the  last  course  had  been  removed  came 
the  host  of  wine  servers  bearing  huge  vessels  upon  their  shoul- 
ders. Soon  the  delicious  beverages  were  flowing  down  the 
throats  of  the  revelers  in  steady  streams.  There  were  few 
abstainers  among  them  and  a  few  moments  after  the  advent 
of  the  wine  servers  many  of  those  about  the  tables  showed  signs 
of  falling  victims  to  the  insidious  alcohol.  Particularly  the 
king  showed  unmistakable  signs  of  intoxication.  He  was 
rapidly  becoming  maudlin.  Now  was  the  time  for  singing  and 
dancing.  As  a  special  attraction  the  king's  harem  came  in  as 
a  body  and  danced  before  the  guests,  accompanying  their  mo- 
tions with  a  weird  chant,  interspersed  with  lewd  songs.  Bel- 
shazzar, leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  favorite,  watched  the  scene 
through  the  eyes  of  a  drunkard.  Suddenly  he  noticed  the  wine 
servers  were  slow  about  refilling  the  empty  goblets. 

"Be  faster  with  the  wine,"  he  cried,  interrupting  a  Susianian 
girl  who  was  singing  a  low  song  and  acting  out  its  story  as  she 
sang. 


BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST  345 

''Sir,  we  are  short  of  vessels,"  replied  the  chief  servant. 

"Then  send  to  the  temple  and  bring  hither  the  gold  and 
silver  vessels  of  the  Jews.  They  have  lain  in  idleness  long 
enough." 

^  "O  King,  I  protest  against  the  use  of  those  vessels,"  said 
Neboakhu,  rising  and  speaking  in  a  loud  voice.  "Never  have 
they  been  touched  since  coming  into  our  possession.  They  were 
used  in  the  Jewish  temple  and  are  therefore  sacred  to  their 
God.  The  great  Nebuchadnezzar  himself  gave  orders  that 
they  should  never  be  used." 

"Nebuchadnezzar  is  dead.  His  orders  are  no  longer  obeyed. 
I  am  the  king  and  what  I  say  do  shall  be  done.  The  man  who 
opposes  my  will  shall  die.  Slave  bring  the  vessels  and  pay  no 
heed  to  this  mad  priest,"  cried  the  king. 

"The  gods  help  a  nation  with  such  a  king,"  murmured  Ne- 
boakhu as  he  took  his  seat. 

After  a  long  delay,  during  which  the  singing  and  dancing 
went  on  uninterruptedly,  the  servants  appeared  bearing  the 
beautiful  Hebrew  vessels,  those  made  at  King  Solomon's  orders 
and  used  in  the  temple  worship  from  his  day  until  the  fall  of 
Jerusalem. 

"Fill  them  up,"  cried  Belshazzar  gleefully. 

The  servants  returned  in  a  moment  with  the  sacred  vessels 
filled  to  the  brim  with  wine.  The  first  man  filled  the  goblet 
of  the  king  and  then  the  others  were  served  in  turn.  After  all 
were  served  Belshazzar  arose  unsteadily  and  with  cup  raised 
above  his  head -proposed  a  toast. 

"Great  is  Bel!"  he  cried,  "god  of  gods  and  king  of  kings. 
Drink  to  him,  drink.  Drink  confusion  to  all  other  gods. 
Drink,  drink  to  Bel.  He  is  great  and  Belshazzar  is  next." 

Suddenly  the  face  of  the  boy  king  turned  ashen  pale  and  his 
whole  body  trembled  so  violently  that  he  could  scarcely  stand. 
The  hand  upholding  the  goblet  so  shook  that  the  wine  spilled 
over  the  edges  and  fell  upon  his  head,  flowing  down  over  his 
rich  robe  to  the  floor.  His  empty  hand  pointed  to  the  wall 
upon  his  right  where  his  gaze  was  riveted,  fascinated  by  a 


346  RHESA 

strange  apparition.  The  eyes  of  the  assembled  company  fol- 
lowed the  trembling  finger  of  the  king  and  beheld  upon  the 
wall  the  cause  of  his  confusion.  Stranger  sight  ne'er  saw  any 
man. 

Upon  the  whitened  wall  of  the  banquet  chamber  the  fingers 
of  a  man's  hand  were  distinctly  visible  as  they  slowly  and  care- 
fully traced  the  letters  of  a  mysterious  message  in  an  unknown 
tongue.  The  eyes  of  the  thousand  guests  watched  the  ghostly 
fingers  as  they  ran  across  the  wall  tracing  the  mystic  charac- 
ters. The  singers  and  dancers  quietly  left  the  room,  awed  by 
the  strange  apparition.  Even  their  seared  consciences  told 
them  there  was  here  a  Divine  manifestation  and  they  felt  their 
unfitness  to  behold  it. 

At  length  the  eerie  fingers  finished  their  work  and  paused. 
Belshazzar  seemed  to  recover  somewhat  from  his  fright. 

"Neboakhu,"  he  cried,  "Chief  Priest  of  Babylon,  interpret 
for  me  the  meaning  of  yonder  message  from  the  gods." 

With  a  slow  and  measured  step  the  old  priest  approached  the 
king.  From  a  station  at  Belshazzar's  left  hand  he  stood  and 
gazed  long  at  the  awesome  message.  At  length  with  the  per- 
fect acting  born  of  long  years  of  deception  he  turned  to  the 
king  and  confidently  interpreted  the  message  for  him. 

"Thus  reads  yonder  message,  O  King.  The  gods  are  pleased 
with  thy  favor.  They  promise  thee  their  blessing.  They 
promise  to  defeat  the  Persians  and  give  the  countries  of  the 
world  into  thy  hand." 

Ah,  Neboakhu,  deceptive  till  the  last.  Thy  whole  life  has 
been  spent  deluding  people.  By  tricks  and  subtleties  hast  thou 
led  thousands  to  the  worship  of  gods  thou  knewest  did  not 
exist.  Only  a  few  moments  ago  when  yon  mysterious  hand 
first  appeared  upon  the  wall  thou  turned  to  thy  companion  and 
said:  "I  tell  thee,  friend  Egibi,  there  is  something  Divine  in 
that  message.  Behind  that  hand  there  is  a  God  and  I  know 
and  thou  knowest  it  is  not  the  god  I  worship  but  the  one  thou 
once  worshipped  and  forsook."  For  once  thy  pretended  knowl- 
edge avails  thee  not.  Yonder  boy  king  already  has  a  grudge 


BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST  347 

against  thee  and  some  strange  power  tells  him  thou  hast  sought 
to  deceive  him. 

"Priest,  thou  liest.  Thou  knowest  not  how  yonder  message 
reads,"  cried  the  king  and  before  the  astonished  guests  realized 
what  was  taking  place  Belshazzar's  sword  had  ended  the  life 
of  Babylon's  chief  priest. 

"Send  for  the  seven  wise  men,"  he  cried,  mad  with  rage  and 
fright. 

After  a  brief  delay  the  Seven  Mystic  Councillors  came  clad 
in  their  long  robes.  They  marched  into  the  hall  in  single 
file  and  approached  the  king,  moving  slowly  and  with  dignity. 

"Read  for  me  yonder  message,"  cried  the  boy. 

Long  and  steadfastly  they  looked  upon  it  but  not  one  of  the 
seven  could  decipher  a  single  letter.  Truly  all  things  Baby- 
lonian were  slipping  away  tonight!  At  length  the  seven  seers 
acknowledged  their  inability  to  read  the  strange  words  and 
they  were  curtly  dismissed.  Belshazzar  sat  huddled  in  one 
corner  of  the  great  throne-like  chair,  one  elbow  upon  an  arm 
and  one  hand  supporting  his  head.  Believing  as  he  did,  in  com- 
mon with  all  his  race,  in  things  supernatural,  he  saw  in  the 
glowing  words  upon  the  wall  a  message  for  himself  and  he 
thought  it  boded  ill.  Though  he  dreaded  evil  tidings  he  yet 
felt  he  must  have  it  translated  for  him.  He  sat  as  one  in  a 
reverie. 

The  curtains  that  screened  the  entrance  were  pushed  aside 
and  a  figure  tall  and  majestic  entered  the  room.  It  was  the 
figure  of  a  woman.  She  was  dressed  all  in  white  and  her 
face  was  nearly  as  white  as  the  garments  she  wore.  She  ad- 
vanced slowly  across  the  hall,  not  stopping  until  close  beside 
the  king.  It  was  Nitocris,  Queen  of  Babylon,  risen  from  a 
sick  bed  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  clamor  she  had  heard  through- 
out the  palace. 

"My  son,"  she  said,  "what  is  the  cause  of  this  strange  fright 
which  has  taken  possession  of  everyone  within  the  palace  to- 
night?" 


348  RHESA 

"Look,  Queen,  at  yonder  wall  and  ask  no  questions,"  he 
answered. 

She  looked  as  he  indicated  and  saw  for  the  first  time  the 
strange  words  that  glowed  upon  the  opposite  wall.  She  re- 
garded them  in  silence  for  several  moments,  the  eyes  of  the 
thousand  guests  fastened  upon  her  pale  face.  At  length  turn- 
ing to  her  son,  she  said : 

"O  King,  be  not  troubled  because  of  yonder  words.  Let  not 
thy  face  be  pale  nor  thy  knees  shake  together.  There  is  here 
in  thy  kingdom  a  man  who  is  filled  with  the  spirit  of  the  gods  ; 
who  can  interpret  dreams  and  dissolve  difficulties.  The  great 
Nebuchadnezzar  made  him  chief  of  all  the  wisemen  and  magi- 
cians. Send  for  this  man  Daniel,  I  pray  thee,  and  bid  him  come 
hither.  He  and  he  alone  can  interpret  this  writing  for  thee." 

Having  thus  spoken  she  retraced  her  steps  to  the  doorway  and 
left  the  room,  walking  slowly  and  weakly,  showing  to  the 
assembled  guests  how  disease  had  undermined  the  strength  and 
vitality  of  this  wonderful  woman.  Messengers  were  at  once 
sent  to  find  Daniel  and  after  a  long  delay  he  came.  The  chief 
of  the  servants  at  once  conducted  him  to  the  throne.  Bel- 
shazzar  addressed  him. 

"I  have  heard  of  thee,  mighty  Daniel,  that  thou  hast  the  gift 
of  interpreting  dreams  and  making  known  the  mysteries  that 
are  unknown  to  other  men.  Look  thou  upon  yonder  writing 
upon  the  wall.  The  chief  priest  gave  me  a  false  interpreta- 
tion thereof  and  he  paid  for  his  deception  with  his  life.  The 
wise  men,  the  astrologers  of  th£  king  were  summoned  and  they 
could  not  read  it.  Now  therefore  behold  and  see  if  thou 
canst  reveal  unto  me  the  meaning  of  yonder  words.  If  thou 
canst  interpret  their  meaning  thou  shalt  be  clothed  in  a  scarlet 
cloak  and  a  golden  chain  shall  be  about  thy  neck.  Thou  shalt 
be  our  rab  mag  and  rank  third  in  the  kingdom." 

Daniel  answered  the  king.  "Thy  gifts  and  promises  are 
not  for  me;  give  them  to  another,  but  I  will  read  the  writing 
for  thee  and  make  known  unto  thee  the  interpretation  thereof. 

"Know,  King  Belshazzar,  the  Most  High  God  gave  unto 


BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST  349 

.Nebuchadnezzar  a  mighty  kingdom  with  all  power  and  honor. 
He  gave  the  world  and  its  people  into  his  hands  to  rule  accord- 
ing to  his  own  inclination;  but  when  the  great  king  was  lifted 
up  in  his  pride  the  Lord  God  took  away  from  him  his  throne 
and  his  glory.  He  was  changed  into  a  beast  of  the  field  and 
dwrelt  with  the  beasts.  He  ate  grass  like  other  beasts  and  his 
body  was  wet  with  dew  until  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and 
acknowledged  the  Most  High  to  be  ruler  over  all. 

"Thou  hast  heard  all  this  before  Belshazzar,  but  thou  hast 
hardened  thy  heart  and  defied  the  Lord  of  Heaven.  Thou 
hast  had  the  vessels  of  the  temple  brought  in  here  and  thou, 
with  thy  lords  and  nobles,  thy  wives  and  concubines  hast  drank 
wine  from  them.  Thou  hast  raised  up  thy  voice  in  praise  of 
false  gods ;  gods  of  metal  and  of  stone  that  neither  hear  nor  see, 
defying  the  true  God,  who  settest  thee  upon  thy  throne  and 
gave  the  kingdom  into  thy  hand. 

"The  words  written  upon  the  wall  are  these,  Mene,  Mene, 
Tekel,  Upharsin  and  this  is  the  interpretation  thereof:  Mene, 
God  has  reckoned  thy  kingdom  and  finished  it;  Tekel,  thou  art 
weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting;  Phares,  God  will 
break  thy  kingdom  in  pieces  and  give  it  unto  the  Medes  and 
Persians." 

A  deep  hush  fell  upon  the  assembly  when  Daniel  began  to 
speak.  The  revelers  were  sobered  by  the  scene;  the  sober  were 
pale  with  fear.  As  the  mighty  prophet  denounced  their  king 
and  his  crimes  against  the  Lord  each  took  the  words  unto  him- 
self and  when  he  foretold  their  city's  doom  they  believed  him. 
It  was  some  moments  after  Daniel  finished  before  Belshazzar 
found  words  to  answer  him  and  when  he  did  speak  his  words 
little  showed  the  feeling  engendered  within  him  by  the  proph- 
et's speech. 

"Thy  words  bring  sadness  to  my  heart,  mighty  Daniel,"  he 
said,  "but  I  shall  keep  my  word  which  I  spake  unto  thee. 
Bring  hither  a  scarlet  garment  and  a  golden  chain." 

Servants  soon  brought  the  articles  and  put  them  upon  Dan- 
iel. Belshazzar  then  arose  and  addressed  his  guests. 


350  RHESA 

"Men  of  Babylon,"  he  said,  "behold  before  thee,  Daniel 
who  is  called  Belteshazzar,  rab  mag  of  Babylon." 

Before  the  king  seated  himself  after  declaring  Daniel's  eleva- 
tion the  curtains  that  screened  the  entrance  were  suddenly 
pushed  aside  and  a  man  sprang  into  the  hall.  At  sight  of  him 
Belshazzar  turned  deathly  pale. 

"The  Persians  are  within  the  city  and  all  is  lost,"  he  cried. 
The  newcomer  was  Sheshbazzar.  He  advanced  up  the  hall 
in  long  strides  until  he  reached  the  throne.  Belshazzar  shrank 
farther  into  his  seat  at  sight  of  the  man  whom  he  supposed 
already  killed  by  the  hired  assassins  he  had  sent  against  him. 
The  prince  grasped  the  king  by  the  throat  and  lifted  him  to 
his  feet. 

"By  all  the  gods,  Belshazzar,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  hidden 
the  woman  of  my  heart,"  he  hissed. 

Several  guests  arose  to  go  to  the  king's  assistance.  They 
recognized  the  newcomer  as  flesh  and  blood  and  it  was  a  relief 
after  the  supernatural  occurrences  of  the  evening.  Sheshbazzar 
saw  them  coming  and  waved  them  back  with  his  free  arm. 

"Back,  men  of  Babylon,"  he  cried,  "this  quarrel  is  between 
Belshazzar  and  myself  alone." 

Then  tightening  his  grip  upon  the  king's  throat  he  cried 
again : 

"Answer  me  quick  ere  I  kill  thee." 

"She  is  in  the  palace.  South  building.  The  servants  will 
show  thee,"  gasped  the  king. 

The  prince  gave  him  a  push  backwards  and  would  have  left 
him  thus  had  not  his  eyes  chanced  to  rest  upon  the  corpse  of 
Neboakhu  which  had  not  been  removed  but  lay  where  he  had 
fallen.  Quick  as  a  flash  Sheshbazzar's  sword  was  in  the  air 
prepared  to  strike  the  avenging  blow,  but  in  that  instant  a  hand 
was  placed  upon  his  arm  and  a  calm  voice  said:  "My  son, 
stain  not  thy  clean  hands  with  unrighteous  blood." 

Sheshbazzar  turned  to  the  speaker  and,  recognizing  him, 
replied:  "Thou  are  right,  mighty  Daniel,  such  blood  as  his 
is  too  vile  for  an  honest  sword." 


THE  MORNING  AFTER  35i 

"Tis  not  too  vile  for  mine,"  screamed  a  voice  near  at  hand. 

There  was  a  flash  in  the  air,  a  cry  and  Belshazzar  lay  in  his 
own  blood  upon  the  steps  of  his  throne. 

"Nabonidos,  I  am  avenged,"  cried  the  voice  and  Vulmaran 
fell  back  into  the  arms  of  the  aroused  nobles,  a  hopeless  maniac. 

"Sirs,"  cried  a  voice,  loud  and  stern,  "ye  are  my  prisoners." 

All  turned  toward  the  entrance  from  whence  came  the 
voice.  Just  inside  the  curtains  stood  Gobryas,  the  general  of 
Cyrus.  Beside  him  stood  Heber  and  behind  Heber  was  a 
column  of  soldiers. 

Thus  passed  away  the  great  empire  of  Babylon  after  a  life 
of  only  eighty-seven  years.  Thus  the  achievements  of  Nabopo- 
lassar  and  Nebuchadnezzar  were  lost  through  the  inaction  and 
debauchery  of  their  successors.  Thus  fell  the  Semitic  race  and 
thus  rose  the  Aryan.  The  Almighty  had  made  another  move 
upon  the  Divine  chess-board. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

THE    MORNING   AFTER 

The  morning's  sun  dawned  upon  a  stricken  city;  a  city  of 
corpses;  of  outraged  womanhood;  of  devastated  homes.  Mur- 
der, rape  and  arson,  the  dread  triumvirate  of  conquest  had  held 
full  sway  over  the  once  proud  mistress  of  the  East.  Notwith- 
standing the  strict  orders  issued  by  King  Cyrus,  his  officers  had 
found  it  impossible  to  restrain  their  rough  men  who  for  years 
had  looked  eagerly  forward  to  the  loot  of  Babylon,  and  when 
their  prey  was  actually  within  their  grasp,  no  orders  could  pre- 
vent their  securing  all  the  booty  obtainable.  Of  the  three 
afflictions,  fire  had  done  the  least  harm,  not  due  to  the  lack 
of  its  employment  but  to  Babylon's  being  entirely  a  brick  city. 
In  the  flat  treeless  country  of  the  lower  Euphrates  wood  was 
the  most  expensive  and  least  used  building  material.  To  this 
fact  alone  was  due  the  city's  preservation  from  fire. 


352  RHESA 

Trustworthy  troops  had  been  placed  about  the  palace,  the 
temple,  the  gardens  and  other  public  edifices.  Cyrus  hoped  to 
retain  Babylon  in  all  its  magnificence  and  therefore  took  these 
steps  to  prevent  its  destruction.  In  accordance  with  his  humane 
policy  all  the  guests  at  Belshazzar's  feast  escaped  with  their 
lives  and  liberty.  Early  in  the  morning,  after  the  terrible  hours 
of  the  night  were  over,  and  the  debauched  soldiers  had  sought 
quarters  for  themselves  or  been  rounded  up  by  their  officers, 
Gobryas  opened  wide  the  palace  gates  and  sent  forth  the  nobles 
to  their  respective  homes.  Alas,  such  homes  as  many  of  them 
found.  Wives  and  daughters  murdered  or  outraged,  in  many 
cases  both,  the  beautiful  tapestries  torn  from  their  places  and 
carried  away,  the  furnitures  broken,  the  servants  fled. 

Sheshbazzar  had  been  obliged  to  spend  the  night  at  the 
palace  with  the  nobles.  Though  the  young  Persian  had  been 
both  courteous  and  gentle,  he  was  yet  firm,  and  not  one  whom 
he  found  in  the  banquet  hall  had  been  allowed  to  leave  the 
building  until  daylight.  The  bodies  of  Neboakhu  and  Bel- 
shazzar  had  been  removed  to  an  adjoining  room  where  slaves 
had  prepared  them  for  burial.  Thus  the  murderer  and  his 
victim  departed  life  in  tTie  same  hour.  Vulmaran  had  been 
taken  into  custody  to  restrain  him  from  further  violence.  The 
once  active  mind  was  shattered.  No  longer  would  the  once 
powerful  rab  mag  rule  kings  or  carry  on  conspiracies.  To 
languish  and  pine  in  a  mad  cell,  to  rave  and  cry  of  his  royal 
ambitions,  was  the  fate  of  the  wily  noble.  Sheshbazzar  experi- 
enced a  pang  at  heart  upon  beholding  him  led  away  to  his  cell, 
for  notwithstanding  the  injuries  he  had  received  at  the  man's 
hands  he  could  not  forget  whose  father  the  maniac  was. 

As  soon  as  the  gates  were  opened  in  the  morning,  Sheshbazzar 
left  the  palace.  He  was  sorrowful,  mourning  for  the  dear  old 
man  who  had  been  to  him  the  only  father  he  had  ever  known. 
He  went  at  once  to  his  old  home  behind  the  temple.  The 
ravages  of  the  conquerors  had  not  reached  that  part  of  the  city 
and  he  found  the  house  just  as  it  was  when  its  occupant  left 
to  attend  Belshazzar's  feast.  The  prince  bade  the  servants  make 


THE  MORNING  AFTER  353 

ready  to  receive  the  body  of  their  master.  Then  he  ordered  his 
chariot  and  sat  down  in  the  dead  priest's  library  to  await  its 
coming  Abstractedly  he  picked  up  a  large  clay  tablet  that  lay 
upon  the  table  and  began  to  read  the  characters  engraved  upon 
it.  lo  his  surprise  he  found  it  directed  to  himself.  Glancine 
across  it  he  found  it  to  be  of  some  length  and  knowing  he  had 
but  a  few  moments  to  wait,  he  laid  it  back  upon  the  table 
resolving  to  read  it  later  when  time  was  not  so  pressing 

A  moment  later  a  servant  announced  the  presence  of  his 
chariot  and  he  at  once  left  the  house.  At  the  Hanging  Gardens 
the  chariot  stopped  and  the  prince  alighted.  He  hurried  up  the 
several  flights  of  stairs  to  the  summit.  He  boldly  entered  the 
villa  and  sought  out  Maraida.  He  no  longer  had  enemies  to 
fear  and  therefore  went  upon  his  present  business  boldly  After 
much  argument  he  prevailed  upon  the  woman  to  accompany 
him.  It  was  not  until  he  told  of  Orma's  second  imprisonment 
and  his  desire  to  have  her  assist  in  rescuing  the  girl  that 
Maraida  consented  to  leave.  He  also  narrated  to  her  the  occur- 
rence of  the  previous  night.  In  her  secluded  position  only  the 
barest  rumors  of  the  momentous  happenings  reached  her.  The 
unfortunate  woman's  heart  leaped  as  he  progressed  with  the 
narrative  and  she  slowly  realized  that  her  life  of  slavery  was 
at  an  end.  For  the  first  time  in  over  twenty  years  she  was  her 
own  mistress.  The  villa  upon  the  Hanging  Gardens  was  not 
the  mam  harem  but  only  the  residence  of  a  few  favorites  and 
therefore  Maraida  was  not  among  those  whom  Belshazzar  had 
introduced  at  his  banquet. 

Once  they  reached  the  palace,  the  rescue  of  Orma  was  merely 
the  work  of  moments,  moments  required  for  inquiry,  for  once 
the  cell  was  located  there  were  none  to  prevent  their  leading 
her  forth.  A  servant  was  found  who  knew  of  her  prison  and 
encouraged  by  a  golden  brooch  given  him  by  the  prince,  he  led 
the  way  to  the  cell.  The  prince  opened  the  door  and  bade 
Maraida  enter.  Orma  started  toward  them  but  ere  her  steps 
placed  her  near  them,  she  tottered  and  had  not  the  prince 
sprang  forward  to  catch  her,  she  would  have  fallen.  She  lay 


354  RHESA 

back  in  his  arms  limp  and  apparently  lifeless.  He  sent  the 
servant  scurrying  after  water  and  bade  Maraida  loosen  her 
clothing.  She  obeyed  and  afterwards  struck  the  hands  of  the 
fainting  girl.  In  a  few  moments  the  servant  returned  with  a 
dish  of  water.  They  sprinkled  her  face  and  forced  a  swallow 
between  her  closed  lips.  Soon  she  opened  her  eyes  and  smiled, 
a  poor  weak  smile.  In  a  few  moments  she  returned  to  full 
consciousness  but  was  very  weak. 

"Orma,  my  love,"  said  the  prince,  "thy  troubles  are  over. 
Belshazzar  is  slain  and  Cyrus  is  in  possession  of  the  city.  Thy 
lover  is  no  longer  a  prince  but  a  common  man,  and  for  all  I 
know  a  servant  to  the  Persian." 

She  smiled  upon  him  in  a  manner  that  told  plainer  than 
words  that  his  loss  of  rank  had  no  effect  upon  her,  that  she 
loved  the  man  and  not  the  title.  As  he  glanced  around  the 
room  a  hot  wave  of  anger  passed  over  him,  the  undertow  leav- 
ing him  calmly  indignant.  There  was  not  a  covering  on  the 
floor,  not  a  drapery  to  the  window,  not  an  article  of  furniture 
in  the  room,  not  even  a  chair.  She  told  him  that  during  her 
three  days'  imprisonment  not  a  morsel  of  food  nor  a  drop 
of  water  passed  her  lips.  Small  wonder  the  poor  girl  fainted! 
The  prince  and  Maraida  took  each  an  arm  and  thus  sup- 
ported Orma  through  the  halls  and  corridors  to  the  small 
private  door  where  the  chariot  awaited  them.  Her  lame  ankle 
was  still  painful  but  by  bearing  little  weight  upon  it  she  was 
able  to  walk  between  them.  The  prince  took  her  in  his  arms 
and  tenderly  placed  her  upon  the  floor  of  the  vehicle.  Then  he 
and  Maraida  climbed  up  beside  her.  Shortly  before  noon  they 
stopped  before  Nehum's  residence.  As  they  alighted  Orma 
turned  to  the  former  concubine  and  said  kindly:  "Here  is  my 
abode,  Maraida,  and  here  shalt  thou  reside.  Wherever  I  am 
hereafter,  there  shalt  be  thy  home." 

Sheshbazzar  accompanied  them  into  the  house.  The  reunion 
of  the  Jewish  family  was  touching.  The  prince  held  aloof  with 
averted  gaze  until  the  first  effusive  greetings  were  over.  Then 


THE  MORNING  AFTER  355 

as  Orma  and   Maraida  left  the  room  to  obtain  some   food 
Nehum  and  Heber  turned  to  him. 

"Prince!"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  "again  do  I  owe  thee  my 
heartfelt  gratitude.  Again  am  I  indebted  to  thee  for  restor- 
ing my  daughter  unto  me.  I  would  that  I  could  reward  thee 
according  to  thy  desires  but  thou  knowest  my  objection.  How- 
ever, I  am  deeply  grateful  and  nothing  but  my  one  objection 
prevents  me  welcoming  thee  into  my  family  as  an  honored 
son." 

"For  thy  good  wishes  I  thank  thee,"  replied  Sheshbazzar,  a 
marked  tone  of  displeasure  in  his  voice.  The  subject  .was  a 
distasteful  one  and  Nehum's  constant  recurrence  to  it  aggra- 
vated him.  Nehum  noticed  the  constraint  he  showed  and  hast- 
ened to  speak  again. 

"Thou  art  displeased  with  what  thou  termest  an  old  man's 
whim,  I  regret  giving  thee  offence,  but  thou  canst  not  realize 
how  near  to  my  heart  is  this  matter."  He  was  so  earnest  that 
the  tears  welled  from  his  eyes  and  flowed  down  his  cheeks. 

"Good  Nehum,  it  gives  me  sorrow  to  cause  thee  pain  but 
my  religion  is  as  sacred  to  me  as  is  thine  to  thee.  If  thou  wert 
in  my  place  thou  wouldst  not  give  up  Jehovah  for  Bel  even  to 
win  the  sweetest  woman  in  the  world,"  replied  the  prince. 

"Thou  art  right,  Prince,"  answered  the  old  man.  "Even  in 
my  sorrow  that  so  noble  a  man  should  choose  to  remain  an 
idolater,  I  can  but  respect  thee  for  thy  consistency.  Far  better 
is  it  to  be  true  in  thy  worship  of  a  false  god  than  a  hypocrite 
in  worshipping  the  true  One." 

The  prince  bowed  slightly  in  recognition  of  the  genuine  com- 
pliment contained  in  the  old  man's  speech. 

"One  thing  would  I  ask  thee,"  he  said  a  moment  later. 
"Dost  thou  still  forbid  my  seeing  thy  daughter?" 

"Ah,  that  is  a  difficult  question.  My  natural  respect  for 
thee  and  my  gratitude  for  thy  many  services  to  us  commend 
me  to  make  thee  welcome  here  at  all  times,  but  on  the  other 
hand,  if  my  daughter  and  thee  are  not  to  wed  'twere  better  thou 
didst  not  meet." 


356  RHESA 

He  was  silent  for  several  moments  apparently  in  deep 
thought.  At  length  he  spoke. 

"I  cannot  find  the  words  to  forbid  thee  visiting  here  and 
meeting  my  daughter.  Therefore,  I  bid  thee  come  and  I  shall 
pray  for  thee  yet  more  earnestly." 

The  prince  smiled  at  the  idea  of  the  old  man  praying  for 
him,  but  thanked  him  heartily  for  his  permission  to  visit  Orma. 
After  a  few  words  with  Heber  concerning  the  presence  of  the 
Persians  he  departed. 

From  the  residence  of  Nehum  he  was  driven  directly  to  the 
temple.  This  question  of  religion  troubled  him  far  more  than 
he  would  admit  even  to  himself.  Doubts  as  to  the  genuineness 
of  his  gods  continually  assailed  him,  but  he  determinedly  put 
them  aside.  Never  had  he  been  a  religious  man  in  the  accepted 
sense  of  the  term.  His  life  had  been  too  full  of  action  to  allow 
of  his  hanging  about  the  temple  or  even  meditating  upon  matters 
religious,  although  his  early  years  had  been  spent  under  Ne- 
boakhu's  tuition.  The  old  priest,  however,  had  seldom  taught 
him  on  religious  subjects,  trusting  the  young  man  to  follow 
blindly  in  the  faith  of  his  people.  Since  meeting  Orma  the 
prince  had  studied  and  meditated  upon  the  subject  more  than 
during  his  entire  previous  life.  The  complete  change  in  Iddin's 
life  had  been  a  revelation  unto  him  and  from  that  life  dated 
the  first  of  his  doubts  concerning  the  divinity  of  Bel  and  his 
associates. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  temple  he  made  the  weary  ascent  of 
its  seven  stages  and  entered  the  golden  roofed  shrine  on  its 
summit.  His  heart  was  full  and  like  many  another  in  his  hour 
of  troubles  he  turned  to  his  sanctuary.  Prostrating  himself  be- 
fore the  great  golden  image  of  Bel  Tie  gave  way  completely  to 
the  grief  and  despair  that  filled  him,  feelings  he  had  hitherto 
restrained. 

"Oh  my  lord  Bel,"  he  cried,  passionately  holding  out  his 
arms  in  supplication,  "take  me  to  thyself.  This  world  contains 
nothing  more  to  live  for.  My  cause  is  forever  lost,  my  coun- 
try is  in  the  hands  of  a  foreigner,  my  good  old  father,  thy  ser- 


THE  MORNING  AFTER  357 

vant,  murdered,  and  I  cannot  wed  the  woman  of  my  heart  with- 
out forsaking  thee. 

"All  hope  is  gone;  and  without  hope,  O  Bel,  life  is  as  a 
dreary  desert,  void  and  empty.  My  cup  of  bitterness  is  full 
to  overflowing.  I  have  no  country  and  no  home.  I  am  doomed 
to  wander  through  the  world  without  a  place  to  lay  my  head. 
No  hope  or  comfort  lies  ahead.  No  ambition  remains  to  spur 
me  on.  The  object  of  my  life  is  gone.  I  long  for  action  but 
all  fields  of  action  are  closed  against  me.  I  live  with  only  a 
grave  to  look  forward  to. 

"O  Bel,  comfort  me.  Remove  this  load  of  bitterness  from 
my  heart.  Help  me  to  throw  off  this  despair  and  be  again  a 
man.  Find  me  some  work  in  life  to  accomplish,  some  ambition 
to  live  for,  some  goal  to  reach.  Strengthen  my  faith  in  thee, 
O  Bel.  Remove  these  doubts  that  now  assail  me.  Help  me  to 
remain  thy  true  follower.  I  have  no  friends,  O  Bel — " 

"For  shame,  Sheshbazzar,  thou  hast  many  friends,  one  of 
whom  stands  ready  to  help  thee,"  said  a  voice  behind  him. 

The  prince  hesitated  and  then  arose,  half  angry  at  the  in- 
terruption, half  ashamed  that  anyone  should  hear  his  words  of 
despair.  He  was  not  especially  surprised  to  find  that  the  inter- 
ruption came  from  King  Cyrus.* 

"Prince  Sheshbazzar,"  said  the  conqueror,  "I  crave  thy  par- 
don for  this  intrusion.  When  I  conquer  a  nation  it  is  my 
policy  to  adopt  its  gods.  Therefore  am  I  here  this  morning 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  latest  additions  to  my  list  of 
deities." 

These  words  were  spoken  in  careless  flippant  tones,  showing 
a  total  lack  of  veneration  upon  the  conqueror's  part.  Shesh- 
bazzar noticed  the  tone  and  took  exception  to  it. 

"Thou  believest  not  in  our  gods?"  he  said. 

"I  do  not,"  replied  Cyrus,  "and  neither,  I  hope,  dost  thou." 

*  The  writer  is  here  guilty  of  an  historical  inaccuracy.  While 
Babylon  was  captured  by  Gobryas  in  June,  B.  C.  538,  modern  research 
proves  the  conqueror  himself  did  not  enter  the  city  until  October.  For 
the  purposes  of  this  tale  the  writer  has  taken  the  liberty  of  introducing 
Cyrus  within  the  walls  immediately  after  the  capture. 


358  RHESA 

"In  that  ye  err,"  answered  the  prince,  "I  believe  in  them 
with  all — "  He  did  not  finish.  Truthfulness  was  one  of  his 
chief  virtues  and  he  could  not  truthfully  say  he  believed  in 
these  gods  with  all  his  heart. 

"Prince,"  said  King  Cyrus,  "I  am  a  man  who  gives  little 
heed  to  matters  religious.  Cyrus  is  the  god  I  worship  and  in 
truth  he  has  been  good  to  me.  Of  one  thing  I  now  feel  cer- 
tain. There  is  a  Supreme  Being  who  rules  this  world  and  one 
alone.  Various  peoples  have  dim  perceptions  of  him,  but  it  is 
the  Hebrews,  these  people  now  captive  in  this  land,  who  have 
the  clearest  view,  a  view  given  them  by  the  greatest  prophets 
our  world  has  known.  Dost  thou  know,  Sheshbazzar,  one  of 
those  prophets  foretells  my  life  and  even  names  me  Cyrus?  * 
I  once  told  thee  I  felt  impelled  to  take  this  country  and  add  it 
to  my  empire.  More  than  this,  I  now  tell  thee  I  have  had 
orders  from  the  Great  God  himself,  telling  me  he  would  give 
the  city  into  my  hands  without  a  blow  being  struck  and  thou 
seest  it  has  been  so.  He  also  commanded  me  to  return  the: 
captive  Jews  to  their  own  land." 

The  great  king  was  silent  for  some  moments.  His  head  was 
bowed  and  he  stroked  his  beard  thoughtfully.  When  at  last 
he  spoke  it  was  with  the  manner  of  a  man  who  has  decided  the 
question  troubling  him. 

"Prince  Sheshbazzar,  since  taking  this  city  my  mind  has 
dwelt  continually  upon  thee  and  of  my  duty  concerning  thee. 
The  only  regret  I  have  at  overthrowing  this  kingdom  is  the 
wrong  done  thee  thereby.  As  I  once  told  thee,  were  it  not 
for  my  firm  belief  in  Divine  commands  I  would  have  with- 
drawn and  left  thee  thy  throne.  I  even  offered  thee  that  throne 
but  under  such  conditions  I  honored  thee  for  refusing  my  offer. 
This  day  would  I  appoint  thee  Governor  of  Babylonia,  but  I 
know  full  well  thy  pride  would  prevent  thy  accepting  it.  A 
moment  since,  however,  a  thought  came  to  me  and  I  hasten 
to  place  it  before  thee. 

"It  is  my  intention  to  return  the  Jews  to  their  own  land.  I 
*  Isaiah  44:28 — 45  :i-4- 


JEHOVAH  359 

want  someone  to  return  with  them  as  their  leader  and  act  as 
Governor  of  Judea.  Therefore,  Prince  Sheshbazzar,  I  offer 
thee  the  post  as  Governor.  What  sayest  thou?" 

The  manner  of  Cyrus's  speaking  was  one  of  absolute  sin- 
cerity. His  offer  was  kind  and  disinterested.  The  prince  pon- 
dered over  the  offer  but  a  few  moments  and  in  that  time  he 
decided  upon  his  future  career. 

"King  Cyrus,"  he  said,  "it  would  be  painful  for  me  to  remain 
in  this  land  now  that  it  is  subject  to  another  race.  Therefore 
I  accept  thy  kind  offer." 

"Then  that  is  settled,"  said  Cyrus. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

JEHOVAH 

Sheshbazzar  partook  of  his  noonday  meal  in  solitude.  So  en- 
grossed was  he  in  his  thoughts  he  paid  little  heed  to  his  eating, 
mechanically  tasting  this  dish  and  that,  but  all  the  time  oblivious 
to  his  surroundings.  As  he  lay  back  in  his  chair  after  finishing 
the  meal  a  servant  entered  to  announce  a  caller.  The  prince 
arose  at  once  and  passed  through  the  library  to  the  reception 
room  where  the  visitor  awaited  him.  To  his  surprise  he  found 
no  less  a  personage  than  Bena  Egibi,  the  world's  foremost 
banker.  As  the  young  man  entered  the  room  the  man  of 
finance  arose  to  meet  him. 

"I  must  make  haste  in  conducting  our  business,  sir,  as  I  have 
many  important  matters  to  consider  today,"  he  said. 

The  prince  motioned  the  old  man  to  a  seat  and  took  one 
near  him.  The  banker  leaned  forward  and  spoke  hurriedly 
and  in  a  low  tone. 

"I  am  come,"  he  began,  "to  make  an  announcement  unto 
thee  that  will  cause  thee  some  surprise.  A  few  days  ago  the 
lamented  Neboakhu  came  to  my  place  of  business  and  dictated 
to  me  certain  orders  regarding  the  disposition  of  his  property, 


36o  RHESA 

little  dreaming  how  soon  those  orders  would  be  carried  out. 
Therefore  am  I  here  to  talk  the  matter  over  with  thee. 

"In  the  first  place  he  orders  that  his  remains  be  buried  in 
the  tomb  he  has  prepared  beneath  the  temple. 

"Second:  He  orders  that  all  moneys  of  which  he  is  pos- 
sessed be  given  unto  thee,  Sheshbazzar,  or  as  thou  wert  for- 
merly called,  Nabomuran,  provided  certain  conditions  to  be 
named  hereafter  are  complied  with. 

"Third:  A  certain  sum  mentioned  by  him  is  to  be  thine 
in  case  thou  refusest  to  accept  the  main  fortune  upon  his  con- 
ditions. In  case  of  such  refusal  all  save  the  above  sum  is  to 
be  divided  among  the  priesthood. 

"Fourth :  This  house  is  the  property  of  the  temple  and  must 
be  vacated  at  his  death.  He  therefore  gives  to  thee  as  a  resi- 
dence the  palace  of  Vulmaran." 

"The  palace  of  Vulmaran?"  exclaimed  the  prince. 

"That  edifice  is  the  property  of  Neboakhu.  In  order  to  pay 
for  his  luxurious  mode  of  living  the  former  rab  mag  was 
forced  to  pledge  his  estates  and  to  prevent  their  being  sold  his 
brother  bought  them." 

"His  brother?" 

"Neboakhu  and  Vulmaran  had  the  same  father  though  dif- 
ferent mothers.  I  believe  I  have  given  thee  an  epitome  of  his 
bequests." 

"There  were  conditions,"  the  prince  reminded  him. 

"Ah  yes.  The  conditions  upon  which  the  entire  property 
is  to  be  thine  are  peculiar,  coming  as  they  do  from  the  Chief 
Priest  of  Bel.  He  requires  thee  to  forsake  thy  present  religion 
and  adopt  that  of  the  Jews.  He  obliges  thee  to  devote  one-half 
of  the  fortune  to  the  Jewish  nation  to  be  used  in  rebuilding 
their  city  and  temple  and  lastly  he  requires  thee  to  make  thy 
home  in  Jerusalem." 

The  prince  sat  looking  earnestly  into  the  face  of  the  old 
banker.  That  these  strange  orders  came  from  the  deceased 
priest  he  could  scarcely  believe.  They  were  at  utter  variance 
with  every  spoken  word  of  his  foster-father. 


JEHOVAH  36l 

"Why  does  he  bequeath  me  a  home  in  Babylon  if  he  requires 
me^to  live  m  Jerusalem?"  he  asked. 

"The  third  and  fourth  bequests  are  conditional  upon  thy 
refusal  of  the  second.  Knowing  thy  honesty  and  steadfast- 
ness he  expressed  doubts  as  to  thy  compliance  with  the  condi- 
tions attendant  upon  thy  possession  of  the  whole  and  not  wish- 
ing such  a  refusal  to  make  thee  a  poor  man  he  leaves  thee  a 
home  and  a  fortune  sufficient  to  support  it." 

^'1  judge  the  fortune  left  by  Neboakhu  is  considerable  " 

3ne  of  the  largest  in  the  world;  the  largest  private  fortune 
in  Babylon,  amounting  to  about  eight  hundred  talents." 

The  prince  stared  at  him  in  astonishment  at  mention  of  the 
vast  proportions  of  the  old  priest's  accumulations. 

"How  did  Neboakhu  obtain  so  vast  a  fortune?"  he  asked 
presently. 

The  banker  smiled  at  the  question. 

"He  amassed  it  by  economy.  Neboakhu,  as  thou  knowest, 
was  a  plain  liver  and  therefore  he  used  but  a  small  proportion 
of  his  perquisites." 

"Of  what  do  these  perquisites  consist?"  asked  the  prince 
sharply. 

The  old  man  was  plainly  embarrassed.  He  felt  the  prince's 
black  eyes  to  be  penetrating  his  very  soul.  He  knew  full  well 
how  his  friend  had  amassed  his  millions  and  Sheshbazzar  also 
suspected.  The  revenues  of  the  temple  were  enormous  and 
were  entirely  under  the  control  of  the  chief  priest,  with  no  one 
to  demand  an  accounting.  Thus  Neboakhu  had  been  able 
to  amass  a  fortune  of  colossal  proportions  out  of  the  public 
funds  and  in  a  manner  not  considered  dishonest  by  the  ma- 
jority of  the  people, 

"Thou  hast  no  answer,"  persisted  Sheshbazzar. 

The  banker  fidgeted  uneasily  in  his  seat.  He  wished  to  de- 
fend his  old  friend  but  saw  no  means  of  doing  so  to  this  straight- 
forward young  man.  At  length  he  framed  an  evasive  reply. 

"Be  not  overscrupulous  in  this  matter.     We  both  know  the 


362  RHESA 

chief  priests  have  always  amassed  fortunes  and  Neboakhu  was 
but  bolder  than  the  rest." 

"It  is  a  sad  blow  to  me,"  answered  the  prince,  "to  learn 
that  this  man  whom  I  have  loved  and  revered  as  a  father  has 
enriched  himself  from  the  gifts  enthusiastic  worshipers  brought 
to  their  gods." 

"Let  not  such  thoughts  as  these  cost  thee  a  fortune,  Shesh- 
bazzar,"  persisted  the  banker.  "If  thou  dost  not  accept  of 
Neboakhu's  savings  they  will  go  to  a  pack  of  thieves  who  will 
do  no  good  with  them,  but  in  thy  hands  the  gold  will  reestab- 
lish a  noble  nation,  making  thy  name  an  honored  one  through 
the  centuries  that  are  to  come.  Say  thou  wilt  accept  his  con- 
ditions and  his  fortune." 

"That  I  will  not  say,  sir,"  replied  the  prince,  "though  I  do 
regret  thus  turning  away  the  means  of  doing  so  much  good  in 
the  world." 

The  old  banker  arose  and  stood  before  Sheshbazzar,  one  hand 
upon  the  young  man's  shoulder  and  looking  earnestly  into  his 
face  entreated  him. 

"I  beg  thee  young  man  decide  not  thus  hastily.  Remember 
in  refusing  this  fortune  thou  puttest  aside  the  opportunity  of 
establishing  a  wonderful  people  in  their  own  land.  The  hour 
of  their  deliverance  is  at  hand.  King  Cyrus  has  already  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  allowing  them  to  return  and  has  called 
a  meeting  of  the  Jewish  leaders  to  confer  with  him.  With  the 
help  of  thy  property  they  can  rebuild  their  city  in  a  magnifi- 
cent manner,  making  it  one  of  the  most  wonderful  capitals  in 
the  world.  Think  before  refusing  to  give  this  oppressed  people 
such  assistance." 

"Sir,"  replied  the  young  man  gravely,  "I  feel  the  heavy 
responsibility  resting  upon  me  and  am  truly  sorrowful  in  caus- 
ing the  Jewish  people  to  lose  so  vast  a  treasure,  but  I  cannot 
honestly  accept  this  fortune  upon  the  conditions  imposed." 

"What  portion  of  the  conditions  stands  in  thy  way?" 

"The  first.  I  am  willing,  yea  more,  would  be  glad  to  be- 
stow half  upon  the  Jewish  people,  and  I  have  already  promised 


JEHOVAH  363 

to  go  to  Jerusalem,  but  were  the  fortune  of  Neboakhu  tenfold 
greater  it  would  yet  be  too  small  to  buy  my  conscience,  to  make 
me  forsake  my  religion." 

The  prince  spoke  in  a  low  calm  tone  but  one  so  firm  as  to 
convince  his  hearer  of  his  sincerity.  The  old  banker  looked 
troubled.  He  was  extremely  desirous  of  having  the  young  man 
accept  the  property. 

"Listen  to  me,  Sheshbazzar,"  he  said,  "while  I  tell  thee  some- 
thing concerning  myself.  I  was  born  a  Jew  but  long  years 
ago  I  forsook  my  God.  I  denied  His  existence.  I  said  there 
were  no  gods.  For  all  these  years  I  have  lived  without  religion's 
balm  to  heal  the  wounds  and  calm  the  sorrows  of  life.  Take 
an  old  man's  advice.  Forsake  these  gods  of  stone  and  metal 
and  cleave  only  unto  the  true  God,  Jehovah.  He  is  the  God  I 
forsook  and  bitterly  have  I  repented  mine  action.  Now  I  ac- 
knowledge Him  and  pray  to  Him  but  I  have  sinned  against 
Him  so  long  that  He  now  refuses  me  His  grace  and  comfort. 
Forget  all  other  considerations  but  thine  own  peace  and  hap- 
piness and  seek  Jehovah.  He  will  grant  unto  thee  the  com- 
fort thine  own  gods  cannot  give  thee." 

"Good  Egibi,"  answered  Sheshbazzar  solemnly,  "I  appreciate 
thy  motives,  but  I  cannot,  will  not,  forsake  my  gods." 

"O  Bel,"  he  cried  rising  impetuously,  "will  this  never  cease? 
Will  they  never  cease  harassing  me  about  my  religion  ?" 

"Of  one  thing  would  I  remind  thee,"  said  the  banker  as  a 
last  resort.  "Neboakhu  was  the  wisest  of  his  race ;  he  was  the 
chief  exponent  of  the  Babylonian  religion ;  he  knew  the  gods  as 
no  other  knew  them,  yet  he  desired  thee  to  worship  Jehovah. 
I  will  say  no  more.  Words  of  mine  are  unnecessary  to  add  to 
such  evidence.  I  accept  thy  decision  in  regard  to  this  property, 
but  Sheshbazzar,  I  shall  hold  every  shekel  of  my  old  friend's 
possessions  until  I  am  forced  to  part  with  them." 

With  this  as  his  farewell  the  man  of  finance  departed. 
When  he  was  again  alone  the  young  man  arose  and  passed 
through  into  the  library.  He  seated  himself  beside  the  table, 
and  throwing  his  arms  upon  it,  he  buried  his  face  in  them  and 


364  RHESA 

gave  way  to  a  bitter  grief,  a  grief  that  sprang  from  many 
causes. 

There  was  his  disappointed  ambition,  sorrow  over  his  coun- 
try's downfall,  the  death  and  what  seemed  wTorse,  the  dishonesty 
of  Neboakhu  and  now  his  religious  doubts.  All  combined  to 
cast  over  his  naturally  buoyant  nature  a  heavy  pall  of  grief  and 
sorrow,  a  pall  so  deep  and  black  as  to  completely  overshadow 
all  other  thoughts  and  emotions.  He  felt  keenly  the  respon- 
sibility he  had  accepted  by  turning  away  from  the  people  of 
his  loved  one  the  fortune  that  meant  to  them  a  national  existence 
and  a  national  worship.  As  he  thought  of  the  thousands  who 
would  benefit  by  the  sale  of  his  conscience  the  temptation  to  call 
back  his  words  became  almost  irresistible.  Condemn  not  this 
strong  man  for  his  adherence  to  gods  and  to  a  religion  we  know 
to  be  false.  Remember  to  him  those  gods  were  omnipotent, 
that  religion  the  one  he  had  been  born  and  bred  in. 

The  tears  which  flowed  freely  from  his  eyes  and  trickled  down 
upon  his  clasped  hands  seemed  to  calm  him  somewhat.  At  length 
they  ceased  and  he  raised  his  head.  He  sat  silently  thoughtful, 
looking  into  space,  unconscious  of  his  surroundings,  unheedful 
of  the  passing  time.  Within  his  mind  a  fierce  struggle  was 
taking  place,  the  fiercest  struggle  that  ever  takes  place  within  a 
man.  The  whole  theology  of  Babylon  was  arrayed  within  his 
mind  against  one  bare  fact;  Neboakhu,  chief  priest  though  he 
was,  had  desired  the  young  man  he  loved  to  become  a  Jew! 
If  any  man  of  the  time  had  a  knowledge  of  the  Babylonian  re- 
ligion, had  an  acquaintance  with  the  Babylonian  pantheon  that 
man  was  Neboakhu.  If  then  he  wished  his  foster-son  to  for- 
sake that  religion  did  it  mean  that  the  old  man  himself  dis- 
believed in  the  gods  he  served? 

Suddenly  there  flashed  into  the  young  man's  mind  the  re- 
membrance of  the  tablet  he  had  found  in  the  morning.  He 
looked  for  it  upon  the  table  and  found  it  close  at  hand. 
He  left  the  room  and  called  to  a  servant  to  bring  a  light. 
When  the  lamp  was  brought  he  picked  up  the  tablet  and 


JEHOVAH  365 

lay  back  in  his  chair  to  read  it.    The  words  formed  a  message 
from  the  dead. 

To  my  beloved  son,  Sheshbazzar: 

An  old  man,  drawing  near  to  the  end  of  life,  feels  called 
upon  to  leave  a  warning  to  a  young  one  just  entering  upon 
his  useful  years. 

As  I  have  long  realized  thou  hast  no  chance  of  becoming 
king.  We  have  sinned  far  too  deeply  against  the  All  Ruling 
One  for  Him  to  save  us  at  this  late  day.  Our  nation  is 
doomed  to  pass  away  and  be  swallowed  up  in  the  empire  of 
the  Persian.  This  I  have  long  seen  coming  as  I  have  studied 
the  destinies  of  the  world  as  outlined  in  the  stars;  but  out  of 
the  empire  of  the  Persian  I  can  see  a  star  appear  that  ever 
grows  in  size  and  brilliancy  until  its  rays  shine  round  the 
world  illuminating  all  peoples.  Whenever  I  look  I  can  see 
this  star  but  I  cannot  explain  its  significance.  Only  this:  It 
always  stands  over  the  land  of  Judea  and  from  this  point  as 
a  center  its  effulgent  light  spreads  out  over  all  humanity. 
Out  of  Judea  then,  my  son,  will  come  one  who  shall  rule 
the  world.  I  have  read  the  Jewish  writings  and  they  point 
to  the  coming  of  a  mighty  ruler  who  shall  conquer  the  world. 
Why  my  son,  has  this  now  dispersed  nation  been  selected  to 
furnish  the  coming  leader?  There  can  be  but  one  explanation. 
It  is  because  they  and  they  alone  worship  the  True  God;  be- 
cause of  all  peoples  on  earth  they  alone  have  read  aright 
the  teachings  of  the  world.  Why  this  people,  little  versed 
in  science  or  art,  without  the  least  instinct  of  empire,  should 
have  acquired  so  great  and  true  a  knowledge  of  the  Deity  I 
cannot  say,  unless  God  chose  to  reveal  himself  directly  unto 
them. 

I  feel  my  son,  that  my  life  has  not  been  wasted  if  my 
years  of  thought  and  study  have  enabled  me  to  discover  but 
this  one  truth.  I  am  sure  of  my  discovery.  My  very  soul  tells 
me  I  am  right  in  my  belief.  Therefore,  my  son,  fear  not  to 
follow  in  this  path.  Forsake  then  the  false  gods  of  inanimate 
stone  and  metal  and  cleave  only  unto  the  one  God,  Jehovah  of 
the  Hebrews. 

In  my  library  thou  wilt  find  copies  of  the  Jewish  writings. 


366  RHESA 

Read  them  and  ponder  over  their  teachings.  In  them  is  life 
and  happiness.  Without  a  true  conception  of  God  a  man  is 
like  a  ship  without  a  helm  or  a  traveler  lost  upon  the  desert. 

The  writing  broke  short  off  here  as  if  the  old  priest  had  been 
called  away  from  his  task  and  had  never  returned  to  it.  Thou 
hast  written  enough,  Neboakhu.  Thy  words  carry  conviction 
to  a  doubting  heart. 

Sheshbazzar  replaced  the  tablet  upon  the  table  and  arose 
to  pace  the  room.  His  mind  was  filled  with  conflicting 
emotions.  The  life  of  Iddin  and  the  change  in  it,  the  words 
of  Cyrus,  the  sorrow  of  Egibi  over  his  lost  religion  and  now 
the  sober  argument  of  Neboakhu  all  contributed  to  this  result. 

"O  God  help  me!"  he  cried. 

Suddenly  as  he  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  a  great 
wave  of  happiness  filled  his  soul  and  into  his  face  there  came 
an  expression  of  unearthly  joy,  for  a  Father's  love  had  shed 
itself  over  him  and  claimed  him  as  His  child.  The  joy  that 
filled  his  heart,  welled  up  into  his  voice  and  he  cried  out: 
"I  believe!  I  believe!  Lord  God  help  me!" 

Then  as  if  acting  under  a  Divine  inspiration  he  knelt  down 
to  pray.  At  that  moment  his  steps  had  placed  him  before 
an  open  window  and  he  knelt  where  he  stood.  Thou  knowest 
it  not,  Sheshbazzar,  but  the  Unseen  Power  hath  led  thy  foot- 
steps hither  and  placed  thee  in  due  position  to  pray.  Thy 
window  is  open  toward  Jerusalem! 

His  prayer  was  as  the  bathing  of  Naaman.  As  the  waters 
of  Jordan  forever  removed  from  the  Syrian  chieftain  all  traces 
of  his  leprosy,  so  the  prayer  of  Sheshbazzar,  bathing  him  in 
the  Spirit  of  God,  removed  all  his  old  idolatry,  his  selfish- 
ness, his  pride.  Gone  forever  were  Bel,  Merodach  and  their 
train  and  in  their  place  one  God  ruled  alone.  He  arose 
from  his  knees  a  new  man,  his  heart  filled  with  an  everlasting 
peace,  his  soul  uplifted  and  purified. 

At  that  moment  a  servant  entered  the  room  and  called 
him.  Without  the  door  stood  a  messenger  from  the  palace. 


THE  DEATH  OF  NITOCRIS  367 

''The  Queen  is  dying  and  bids  thee  come  to  her  at  once  " 
said  the  man. 

The  sad  announcement  struck  deep  into  the  prince's  soul 
coming  as  it  did  so  soon  after  his  change  of  heart.  He  pre- 
pared to  accompany  the  man  at  once. 


CHAPTER  XLV 


With  a  sad  heart  Prince  Sheshbazzar  entered  the  death 
chamber  of  Babylon's  queen.  He  secretly  upbraided  himself 
for  not  having  visited  her  before,  but  as  he  reviewed  the  events 
of  the  past  few  days  he  was  comforted  by  realizing  how  impos- 
sible it  had  been  for  him  to  find  the  necessary  time,  and  in  addi- 
tion he  had  not  known  of  her  serious  illness.  Aside  from  a 
certain  indefinable  lassitude  she  had  appeared  in  perfect  health 
upon  the  occasion  of  the  family  breakfast  the  morning  he  gal- 
loped into  Babylon  the  bearer  of  ill  tidings.  Still,  he  now 
remembered  she  had  informed  him  more  than  a  year  ago  of  the 
disease  she  knew  to  be  undermining  her  strength.  Notwith- 
standing the  way  in  which  events  had  crowded  themselves  upon 
him  since  his  return  from  the  desert,  he  asked  himself  if,  by  a 
trifle  extra  exertion,  he  could  not  have  made  himself  more  of 
a  comfort  to  his  unhappy  queen-mother. 

He  found  the  chamber  quiet,  a  dim  light  barely  illuminating 
the  objects  in  the  room  sufficiently  to  prevent  the  newcomer, 
fresh  from  the  glare  of  the  palace  halls,  from  stumbling 
over  them.  In  a  farther  corner  of  the  spacious  apartment 
stood  a  low  couch  with  snowy  covers  and  draperies.  About 
the  couch  knelt  three  persons  whom  the  prince  recognized  as 
Halista,  Belibus  and  King  Cyrus.  With  a  pang  he  gazed 
upon  the  pale  face  on  the  pillow,  more  beautiful  even  in  its 
lack  of  color  than  when  filled  with  the  ruddy  glow  of  health. 
All  the  light  of  intense  emotions  that  usually  illumined  it 


368  RHESA 

was  gone  and  in  its  place  was  the  classic  refinement  always 
visible  upon  the  face  of  a  noble  woman.  Without  a  word 
or  sign  to  the  other  spectators  of  this,  the  saddest  sight  a 
son  can  look  upon,  he  knelt  beside  the  couch  and  took  one 
pale  hand  in  his.  At  the  moment  of  his  entrance  the  queen 
was  talking  with  King  Cyrus  in  a  low  tone,  her  speech  con- 
stantly interrupted  by  paroxysms  of  pain.  As  unflinchingly 
this  wonderful  woman  had  borne  the  pains  and  sorrows  of 
life,  so  with  never  a  cry  nor  groan,  she  bore  the  unspeak- 
able anguish  of  death.  Coma,  the  friend  of  the  dying,  which  as 
a  merciful  physician  closes  the  eyes  and  lulls  the  sensibilities, 
bridging  the  awful  chasm  that  lies  between  this  life  and  the 
next,  was  absent  from  this  bedside.  Nor  had  narcotic  drugs, 
which  in  our  day  save  the  dying  so  much  of  the  agony  of 
dissolution,  been  dreamed  of. 

With  set  teeth  and  clenched  hands  she  lay  immovable,  only 
the  twitchings  of  the  facial  muscles  revealing  the  intensity  of 
her  suffering,  until  the  pain,  relenting  for  a  brief  period,  she 
again  turned  to  the  conqueror  and  continued  her  speech  with 
him.  Secretly  the  prince  was  surprised  at  Cyrus's  presence 
at  such  a  time,  but  he  attributed  it  to  the  queen's  desire  to 
give  the  new  ruler  the  benefit  of  her  plans  for  the  beautifying 
and  improvement  of  the  city.  He  knew  full  well  that  to  the 
artistic  queen  was  due  the  credit  for  the  city's  present  beauty, 
rather  than  to  her  indolent  and  untalented  husband.  At  length 
she  seemed  to  have  finished  her  communications  with  the  con- 
queror, for  he  arose  and  made  as  if  to  depart,  but  noticing  for 
the  first  time  the  presence  of  Sheshbazzar,  he  tiptoed  around 
the  couch  and  knelt  beside  the  prince. 

"The  queen  has  been  giving  me  a  wonderful  narrative,  in 
which  I  am  deeply  interested.  Tomorrow  morning  I  confer 
with  the  leaders  of  the  Jews.  Be  thou  present  also,  as  I 
shall  have  need  of  thee,"  he  whispered. 

The  prince  bowed  slightly  and  a  moment  later  Cyrus  left 
the  apartment.  The  dying  queen  now  seemed  to  realize  the 
presence  of  the  young  man,  for  she  slowly  and  painfully  turned 


THE  DEATH  OF  NITOCRIS  369 

over  to  face  him.  Halista,  noticing  the  anguish  even  this  slight 
movement  caused  her  mother,  arose  and  assisted  her.  The  hand 
which  Sheshbazzar  had  taken  when  he  first  knelt  at  the  bedside 
had  been  snatched  away  during  one  of  the  paroxysms.  Now 
the  queen  returned  it  and  the  young  man  held  it  lovingly  in 
his,  his  heart  aching  as  he  noticed  how  thin  and  white  it  was 
and  how  the  blue  veins  stood  up.  She  was  evidently  about 
to  speak  to  him  but  she  hesitated.  Another  terrible  season 
of  suffering  came  over  her,  which  on  departing  left  her  still 
weaker.  The  sad  watchers  saw  clearly  that  this  intense  suffer- 
ing could  not  last  much  longer ;  that  under  the  awful  strain  the 
weary  heart  would  soon  cease  its  struggle. 

As  soon  as  she  could  articulate,  Nitocris  murmured:  "Send 
for  Daniel." 

Belibus  arose,  realizing  himself  to  be  the  only  one  present 
who  could  leave  at  such  a  moment.  Without  the  door  he 
found  a  servant  whom  he  dispatched  for  the  Hebrew  prophet. 
When  he  again  knelt  beside  his  loved  one,  whom  the  dying 
queen  had  bequeathed  to  him  shortly  before  the  entrance  of 
Cyrus,  the  queen  was  speaking  to  Sheshbazzar. 

"I  had  much  to  say  to  thee,"  she  said,  her  voice  so  low  the 
young  man  was  obliged  to  lay  his  head  beside  hers  in  order 
to  catch  the  words.  "I  feared  I  should  be  taken  away  before 
the  messenger  could  bring  thee  so  I  told  my  story  to  King 
Cyrus.  He  heard  me  through  and  has  promised  to  set  right 
a  terrible  wrong,  a  wrong  that  at  this  moment  weighs  upon 
my  soul,  though  I  am  not  to  blame  for  its  existence.  I  only 
knew  of  it  three  days  ago.  With  my  dying  breath  I  swear 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  grievous  error  that  has  been  made.  Per- 
haps 'tis  best  this  tale  should  be  told  thee  by  other  lips  than 
mine.  While  I  cannot  blame  myself  for  the  wrong  that 
has  been  done  I  consider  it  my  duty  to  set  matters  aright. 
When  thou  hearest  the  message  I  have  left  I  beg  thee  blame 
me  not.  With  my  dying  breath  I  pray  this  mistake  may  yet 
bring  thee  good." 

Another  battle  with  pain  followed,  a  battle  won  by  the 


370  RHESA 

dying  queen,  but  when  it  had  passed  she  found  her  forces 
weakened  and  she  realized  how  soon  the  superior  foe  would 
wear  her  out.  She  lay  silent  for  some  moments,  making  no 
effort  either  to  speak  or  move.  Halista  arose  and  poured  a 
few  drops  of  wine  down  the  parched  throat.  Again  the  queen 
rallied  and  as  soon  as  her  eyes  opened  she  began  to  speak.  She 
placed  one  hand  within  the  prince's  and  with  the  other  stroked 
his  long  black  locks.  Her  gentle  touch  awoke  his  love  and  he 
realized  what  his  life  had  been  without  a  mother's  touch  to 
soothe  and  comfort.  Instinctively  he  bent  over  and  kissed 
the  pale  hand  he  held.  A  smile  glorious  in  its  sweetness 
sprang  to  the  dying  woman's  face  and  she  too  realized  what 
she  had  missed  in  being  separated  from  this  man  who  would 
have  been  to  her  so  loving  and  dutiful  a  son. 

"Is  this  the  end?"  murmured  the  queen.  "Are  our  virtues 
unrewarded,  our  sins  unpunished?  Do  the  good  and  the 
bad,  the  just  and  the  unjust  go  down  to  the  same  fate?.  Or 
is  there  some  unseen  world,  a  world  beyond  the  tomb?  The 
gods  are  cruel,  not  kind,  if  this  is  all  the  reward  they  give  us. 
A  few  hours  of  pain  and  then  a  cold  tomb.  Is  that  the  goal 
to  look  forward  to  throughout  a  life  of  virtue  and  battle  with 
temptation  ?  Are  my  victories  over  my  body  and  over  the  world 
about  me  of  no  account?  O  God  save  me!" 

As  the  queen  pronounced  her  series  of  unanswerable  questions 
her  voice  gradually  arose  until  she  ended  in  a  scream  that  went 
straight  to  the  hearts  of  her  hearers.  Another  seizure  followed 
and  for  a  much  longer  period  than  before  she  wrestled  with  her 
pitiless  foe.  Before  the  pain  passed  away  and  the  vigorous  in- 
tellect of  the  queen  returned  to  the  subject  which  still  puzzles 
mankind  even  after  wonderful  Divine  revelations  have  been 
made,  Daniel,  the  Hebrew  prophet,  entered  the  chamber. 

Belibus  as  the  least  related  person  present  felt  it  his  duty  to 
do  whatever  required  anyone's  absence  from  the  bedside.  There- 
fore upon  the  prophet's  entrance  he  arose  and  procured  a  low 
stool  which  he  placed  for  the  prophet  close  beside  the  couch 
upon  the  side  vacated  by  King  Cyrus.  The  prince  raised 


THE  DEATH  OF  NITOCRIS  371 

his  head  and,  noting  the  action  of  his  friend,  he  motioned 
him  to  place  the  stool  upon  the  side  of  the  couch  at  which  the 
others  knelt.  This  was  to  save  the  queen  the  agony  of  again 
turning  over.  Daniel  silently  accepted  the  stool  and  sat  waiting 
for  the  dying  woman  to  rally.  When  the  pain  had  finally  sub- 
sided Halista  again  administered  some  wine  and  after  a  few 
moments  Nitocris  opened  her  eyes.  She  saw  Daniel  first  and 
recognized  him  at  once. 

"I  have  sent  for  thee,"  she  said,  her  voice  so  low  as  to  be 
almost  a  whisper,  "to  give  me  comfort  in  my  last  moments. 
As  the  wisest  man  I  know  I  wish  thee  to  answer  for  me  a 
question  that  troubles  me.  Tell  me,  good  Daniel,  what  will 
become  of  me  when  the  last  breath  leaves  my  body.  Is  the 
tomb  the  end  or  is  there  some  wonderful  spirit  land  beyond?" 

"Queen  Nitocris,"  answered  the  old  man,  leaning  over  to- 
ward her  and  speaking  so  as  to  be  heard  of  all  those  about 
the  bed,  "the  subject  upon  thy  mind  is  one  much  thought  on 
by  learned  men.  As  a  Hebrew  I  believe  in  one  God,  Jehovah, 
who  guides  us  through  life  and  takes  us  to  Himself  after  death. 

"Of  this  hereafter,  this  future  life;  happiness  for  the  right- 
eous, everlasting  misery  for  the  wicked,  I  have  the  assurance. 
Did  not  God  say  unto  Abraham  'Thou  shalt  go  to  thy  fathers 
in  peace'?  Now  Abraham  came  from  Chaldea  and  was  buried 
in  Canaan.  Hence  this  message  cannot  refer  to  the  mere  burial 
of  the  body,  for  Abraham  was  not  buried  with  his  fathers.  Ah 
no,  Queen  Nitocris,  God  had  a  meaning  in  His  words  and  as  I 
interpret  His  meaning  He  promised  our  father  Abraham  a  life 
beyond  the  tomb,  and  if  Abraham  why  not  thee  and  me?" 

As  he  spoke  these  words  the  prophet  leaned  over  yet  farther 
and  delivered  his  message  in  the  tense  manner  of  an  enthusiast. 

"Moses,  the  leader  of  my  people,  he  who  led  them  back  from 
their  long  Egyptian  bondage,  when  praying  for  his  people's 
pardon  said  to  the  Lord,  'if  thou  forgive  them  not,  blot  me,  I 
pray  thee,  out  of  thy  book  which  thou  hast  written.'  *  This, 
Queen,  I  take  as  an  indication  of  future  reward  and  future  pun- 

*  Exodus  32:32. 


372  RHESA 

ishment.  Again,  Saul  the  first  king  of  Israel,  sought  an  inter- 
view with  a  dead  prophet  and  talked  with  his  spirit.*  Can 
we  not  consider  this  proof  of  our  contention,  else  whence  did 
Samuel's  spirit  come?  Not  from  the  tomb  surely." 

"Go  on,  go  on,"  whispered  the  queen  eagerly. 

"I  could  continue,  Queen,  going  through  the  Hebrew  writ- 
ings to  prove  my  belief,  but  it  is  unnecessary.  Every  writer 
gives  some  hint  of  this  future  life.  King  David  often  alludes 
to  it  in  his  psalms  and  his  son  Solomon  speaks  of  it  in  unmistak- 
able terms.  He  even  names  it  in  these  words,  'Then  shall  the 
dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was:  and  the  spirit  shall  return 
unto  God  who  gave  it.'  *  *  Here  the  wise  king  refers  to  the 
corruption  of  the  body  but  the  incorruptibility  of  the  spirit." 

"Wonderful,  wonderful,"  murmured  the  pale  lips. 

A  moment  later  a  shade  of  disappointment  came  over  her 
face. 

"But  that  is  for  the  Jews  alone,"  she  said. 

"God  is  the  father  of  all  mankind,  though  to  the  Jews  has 
he  manifested  himself  the  more  clearly.  I  believe,  Queen,  such 
a  life  as  thine  has  been  cannot  end  in  the  tomb.  There  must 
be  a  hereafter  for  so  noble  a  spirit  as  thine." 

"Bend  lower,  Daniel,"  she  whispered,  "I  have  something  to 
say  to  thee  alone.  The  others  will  leave  for  a  moment." 

The  three  young  people  arose  and  withdrew  to  the  farther 
side  of  the  room.  Halista  turned  to  the  prince  and  with  tears 
in  her  voice  as  well  as  in  her  eyes,  said:  "Oh  my  brother,  how 
can  we  let  her  go?" 

"God  knows  best,"  he  answered  solemnly. 

Shortly  a  motion  from  Daniel  recalled  them  to  the  bedside. 
As  Sheshbazzar  approached  the  old  prophet  gazed  upon  him 
long  and  steadfastly. 

"Can  it  be,  can  it  be?"  he  murmured. 

When  they  again  knelt  beside  the  couch  the  poor  queen 
was  struggling  with  her  adversary.  This  attack  was  still 
longer  than  its  predecessor.  When  it  passed  away  she  lay  as 

*i  Samuel  28:15.        ** Ecclesiastes  12:7. 


RHESA  373 

one  dead.  Halista  again  administered  the  wine  and  again 
the  strong  stimulant  brought  the  dying  woman  back  to  life. 

"Tell  me  more,  Daniel,"  were  her  first  words. 

The  old  man  hesitated  a  moment.  Then  an  expression  of 
unearthly  joy  came  into  his  face. 

"I  see!  I  see!"  he  cried.  "The  heavens  are  opened  and  I 
see  the  Holy  One  awaiting,  his  arms  outstretched.  Oh  Lord, 
receive  this  soul." 

There  was  a  cry  from  the  couch. 

"Beautiful!    Beautiful!" 

There  was  a  gurgle  as  of  a  person  drowning  and  then  all  was 
still.  The  foremost  woman  of  the  world  was  dead. 

With  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes  Halista  arose.  Advanc- 
ing to  the  head  of  the  couch,  she  bent  over  and  kissed  the  high 
white  forehead  of  her  noble  mother.  Then  she  laid  hold  of 
the  snowy  coverlet  and  gently  drew  it  up  until  all  that  re- 
mained of  the  mighty  queen  was  hidden  from  view. 

Daniel  arose,  his  face  radiant. 

"Who  can  say  this  Jehovah  of  mine  is  for  Jews  alone?"  he 
cried. 

"I  cannot,"  answered  Sheshbazzar,  "for  I  already  believe 
Him  to  be  my  God  as  well  as  thine.  Oh  mighty  Daniel, 
help  me  become  His  child." 

"The  Lord  be  praised,"  said  Daniel,  laying  his  hand  affec- 
tionately upon  the  young  man's  shoulder. 

"Ah,  Prince,"  he  added,  "the  Almighty  has  a  work  for 
thee  to  do." 

CHAPTER  XLVI 

RHESA 

The  new  day  was  breaking  as  Sheshbazzar  left  the  palace  and 
started  for  his  home.  His  mood  was  a  paradox;  sorrow  over  the 
queen's  death,  joy  over  the  new-found  hope  that  filled  his  soul. 
The  scene  he  had  just  witnessed  was  printed  indelibly  upon 


374  RHESA 

his  mind,  never  to  be  forgotten  as  long  as  he  lived.  From 
the  depths  of  his  soul  he  believed  Nitocris  to  have  passed 
from  this  world  into  a  higher  and  better  one.  He  could  but 
feel  that  she  was  better  off  for  the  change.  He  considered 
her  life  of  grief  and  sorrow  and  then  thought  of  the  beauty 
of  life  in  a  world  where  they  were  unknown.  In  thinking  of 
her  new  life  beyond,  the  keen  edge  of  his  grief  was  dulled.  A 
smile  came  into  his  face  as  he  thought  of  the  queen  in  the  new 
world  and  the  desire  of  meeting  her  in  the  hereafter  took 
possession  of  him. 

He  sought  his  couch  to  obtain  a  brief  rest,  leaving  word 
with  the  servants  to  call  him  in  time  to  be  at  the  palace 
as  King  Cyrus  had  requested.  Notwithstanding  the  orders 
he  had  given  he  was  late  when  he  appeared  at  the  palace.  He 
entered  the  library,  which  was  still  used  as  a  reception  room. 
A  considerable  company  was  grouped  about  the  dais  listening 
to  the  words  King  Cyrus  was  speaking.  As  the  prince  entered 
the  room  the  conqueror  was  announcing  the  surrender  of  King 
Nabonidos  at  Borsippa,  thus  completing  the  subjugation  of  the 
empire.  From  this  announcement  he  passed  directly  to  the 
business  for  which  he  had  called  the  meeting. 

"Men  of  Judah,"  he  began,  "finding  myself  sole  ruler  of 
this  land,  it  becomes  my  duty  to  undo  such  acts  of  my  predeces- 
sors as  were  wrong  or  oppressive.  In  acordance  with  that  duty 
and  acting  under  Divine  command  one  of  my  first  acts  shall  be 
the  restoration  of  the  Jewish  people  to  their  own  land.  To  this 
end  I  have  called  thee  together  to  take  counsel  with  thee,  but 
before  we  proceed  to  make  plans  for  the  future  I  wish  to  ask: 
Is  there  living  an  hereditary  prince,  one  who  is  by  birth  en- 
titled to  rule  over  thee?" 

There  was  silence  for  some  moments,  the  Jews  looking  at  one 
another  as  if  wondering  whose  place  it  was  to  speak.  At  length 
Nehum  stepped  forward  as  became  his  rank  and  age.  Cyrus 
recognized  the  old  man  and  called  him  by  name.  "To  his 
astonishment  Nehum  beheld  Rastagus  of  the  desert. 


RHESA  375 

"I  fear,  King  Cyrus,"  began  the  old  man,  "the  noble  line  of 
King  David  is  extinct." 

Then  briefly  he  sketched  to  the  king  all  that  was  known  of 
Shealtiel  and  the  child  born  in  Babylon's  palace.  In  closing 
he  mentioned  the  theory  put  forward  by  Orma.  As  he  closed 
a  groan  went  up  from  the  Jewish  leaders.  During  the  old 
man's  recital  the  attitude  of  King  Cyrus  was  a  peculiar  one. 
He  sat  leaning  forward,  one  elbow  resting  upon  his  knee 
and  one  foot  tapping  the  stool  impatiently.  He  seemingly 
was  in  haste  for  Nehum  to  finish.  Hardly  had  the  old  man 
'pronounced  the  lost  /word  'when  Cyrus  arose  ftnd  called 
loudly : 

"Is  the  Prince  Sheshbazzar  present?"  Then  spying  the 
young  man  standing  modestly  behind  the  company  of  Jews, 
he  called:  "Come  hither  Prince." 

As  the  young  man  left  his  station  in  answer  to  the  king's 
summons  the  latter  stepped  down  from  the  platform  and  ad- 
vanced to  meet  him.  As  they  met  King  Cyrus  placed  a  hand 
upon  the  young  man's  shoulder  and  called  in  a  loud  voice: 

"Zerubbabel,  Prince  of  Judah,  I  salute  thee." 

Then  taking  the  thoroughly  surprised  prince  by  the  arm 
he  led  him  up  the  steps  to  the  platform.  Turning  to  the 
Jews  he  pointed  to  the  young  man  and  cried: 

"Men  of  Judah,  behold  thy  prince,  Zerubbabel,  son  of 
Shealtiel!" 

Simultaneously  as  from  one  throat  arose  the  cry:  Rhesa! 
Rhesa!  (The  Prince!  The  Prince!) 

As  the  cry  of  the  Jews  died  away  King  Cyrus  raised  his 
hand  in  token  of  a  desire  to  be  heard.  There  was  instant 
silence.  Before  speaking  he  motioned  the  prince  to  be  seated 
in  one  of  the  twin  thrones. 

"Men  of  Judah,"  he  began,  "I  ask  thee  not  to  accept  this 
young  man  as  thy  prince  on  my  simple  word  alone.  I  propose 
to  introduce  a  witness  whose  testimony  will  prove  conclusively 
the  birth  and  lineage  of  this  noble  young  man,  thy  prince,  who 


376  RHESA 

will  lead  thee  back  to  thine  own  land  and  direct  the  rebuilding 
of  thy  cities." 

"Listen,"  he  continued.  "Last  night  there  died  in  this  palace 
a  wonderful  woman,  Nitocris,  Queen  of  Babylon.  While  she 
was  yet  in  the  possession  of  her  faculties  she  sent  for  me  and 
as  I  knelt  beside  her  couch,  she  told  me  of  this  young  man's 
birth  and  of  his  later  life.  Until  within  three  days  of  her 
death  she  supposed  him  to  be  her  own  son,  Prince  Sheshbazzar. 
She  told  me  where  I  could  find  the  only  witness  who  could 
prove  her  tale.  This  witness  I  have  found  and  I  now  pro- 
pose to  introduce  her  to  this  company." 

"Call  the  woman,"  he  said  to  a  soldier. 

A  moment  later  the  man  returned  accompanied  by  Maraida, 
former  concubine  of  Nabonidos.  She  mounted  the  platform 
modestly  and  standing  by  the  side  of  King  Cyrus  she  told  her 
story  in  a  half  shy  but  at  the  same  time  wholly  convincing 
manner. 

"My  name  is  Maraida  and  I  am  a  daughter  of  Judah,"  she 
began.  "Since  my  earliest  recollection  I  have  lived  in  the 
king's  palace  or  in  his  villa.  For  three  years  I  was  servant 
to  Queen  Nitocris.  I  nursed  her  when  the  young  prince  was 
born  and  I  cared  for  the  child  until  his  father's  murder  threw 
the  palace  into  turmoil. 

"Three  weeks  after  the  young  prince  was  born  a  woman  of 
my  own  race,  an  inmate  of  the  palace,  also  gave  birth  to  a 
son.  She  did  not  recover  from  her  confinement  but  re- 
mained a  bed-ridden  helpless  sufferer  from  that  day.  Her 
babe  was  also  given  into  my  keeping  and  for  convenience's 
sake  and  with  the  queen's  consent  the  little  Jewish  babe  ber 
came  an  inmate  of  the  royal  nursery.  Never  were  two  children 
more  alike.  In  size  and  form  and  feature  they  so  nearly  re- 
sembled each  other  as  to  be  taken  for  twins.  I  could  hardly 
tell  them  apart  myself.  Only  upon  the  right  hip  of  the  Jewish 
child  was  a  blood-red  birthmark  in  the  form  of  a  human  hand. 
Often  when  they  were  both  undressed  I  looked  for  the  birth- 
mark before  I  could  tell  upon  which  child  to  put  the  fine  clothes 


RHESA  377 

and  upon  which  the  poor  ones.    For  nearly  two  years  I  cared  for 
my  charges  and  I  learned  to  love  them  as  though  they  were  my 
own.     Particularly  did  I  become  attached  to  the  son  of  my  race 
and  gradually  I  came  to  regard  him  as  my  own.     His  mother 
I  saw  but  seldom   and  even  when   I  saw  her  she  asked   not 
after    the    child.      Her    illness   seemed    to    have    affected    her 
mind  and  I  sometimes  thought  she  had  forgotten  his  existence. 
"I  will  pass  on  to  the  momentous  night  that  affects  my  pres- 
ent subject,  the  night  of  the  king's  murder.    Upon  that  eventful 
evening  I  was  sitting  in  the  nursery  which  opened  out  of  the 
queen's  apartment.     I   heard  voices  without  and  entered  the 
queen's  chamber.     An  old  priest  was  there.     I  heard  him  say, 
'they  are  murdering  the  king.'    A  moment  later  the  king  came 
running,  followed  closely  by  the  assassins.     In  they  came,  bent 
on  their  murderous  errand.     The  queen  stood  as  a  statue,  her 
infant  son  pressed  to  her  bosom.     Quick  as  a  flash  a  thought 
came  to  me  and  I  acted  upon  it  instantly  without  stopping  to 
question   its  wisdom.     I  ran  into  the  nursery,  picked  up  the 
Jewish   babe  and  returned  to  the  queen's  chamber.     At  the 
moment  I  entered  the  king  fell  pierced  by  a  dozen  swords. 
I  ran  up  to  the  old  priest  who  stood  beside  the  queen. 
"  'Here  father,  quick,'  I  cried,  'change  the  infants.' 
"He  caught  the  idea  at  once  and  on  the  instant  the  babes  were 
changed.    I  hurried  away  and  the  old  man  followed  me,  bearing 
the  rescued  prince  in  his  arms.     In  the  excitement  we  escaped 
unnoticed.     Hardly  had  I  left  the  room  when  the  murderers 
tore  the  babe  from  the  queen's  breast  and  ended  its  tiny  life. 

"After  all  was  quiet  again  I  reentered  the  queen's  chamber. 
I  was  sad.  I  realized  that  to  save  the  prince  of  my  people's 
enemies  I  had  sacrificed  one  of  my  own  race.  The  realization 
appalled  me.  I  hoped  to  see  the  babe  again  but  he  had  already 
been  taken  away  and  until  within  a  few  days  I  have  never  seen 
him.  The  murdered  child  lay  upon  its  father's  body,  their 
blood  mingled  in  a  ghastly  pool.  I  picked  it  up  tenderly, 
horrible  object  though  it  was  and  hastened  to  leave  the  room. 
I  procured  a  dish  of  water  and  laying  out  a  set  of  the  prince  s 


378  RHESA 

finest  clothes,  made  ready  to  prepare  the  dead  child  for 
burial.  I  carefully  removed  its  blood  stained  clothing  and 
turned  him  over  upon  my  lap  to  wash  him.  As  I  did  so  I 
met  with  a  surprise  that  nearly  made  me  drop  him.  His  right 
hip  was  fair  and  white  with  never  a  mark  nor  blemish!  The 
prince  had  been  murdered  and  the  Jewish  child  lived!  I 
suddenly  realized  that  one  of  my  own  race  would  grow  up 
to  be  king  of  Babylon.  The  thought  gave  me  momentary 
joy  but  my  joy  was  speedily  turned  to  sorrow  as  I  remembered 
he  would  also  grow  up  an  idolater. 

"How  I  came  to  make  such  a  mistake  I  know  not  but  that 
day  when  I  dressed  them  I  put  the  fine  linen  and  lace  upon  the 
Jew  and  the  coarse  garments  upon  the  Babylonian.  Oh  my 
brethren,  the  hand  of  God  guided  me  that  morning.  He 
caused  me  to  make  the  mistake  that  the  Prince  of  Judah, 
like  Moses  in  Egypt,  might  grow  up  among  the  rich  and 
noble,  might  learn  their  ways  of  living,  their  methods  of 
warfare  and  be  thereby  the  better  fitted  to  lead  his  people. 

"The  woman  from  whom  I  received  the  new-born  babe  was 
the  wife  of  Shealtiel  but  not  until  last  week  did  I  know  the 
babe  was  the  Prince  of  Judah." 

She  finished  and  turned  to  depart  but  Cyrus  called  upon  her 
to  remain. 

During  her  recital  the  subject  of  it  sat  as  a  man  in  a  dream. 
As  she  slowly  unfolded  her  tale  he  gradually  realized  who  he 
was  and  what  a  work  was  his  to  do.  So  the  queen  he  had 
learned  to  love  was  not  his  mother.  The  thought  was  a  bitter 
one.  Was  there  another  woman  to  come  and  embrace  him  and 
call  him  son?  Throughout  Maraida's  narration  these  thoughts 
had  been  uppermost  in  his  mind.  The  full  significance  of  his 
new  name  and  lineage  did  not  impress  him  at  the  moment,  so 
sudden  had  it  all  been.  Be  not  ashamed  of  thy  change,  Prince 
Sheshbazzar.  As  prince  of  Babylon  thy  name  would  be  un- 
known to  history  but  as  prince  of  Judah  it  shall  be  honored 
through  ages  to  come. 


RHESA 


379 


"Has  anyone  a  question  to  ask  of  our  witness?"  asked  King 
Cyrus. 

Nehum  during  this  recital  stood  in  the  front  rank  of  his 
brethren  close  to  the  platform.  He  had  listened  attentively  to 
every  word.  His  heart  leaped  as  he  realized  what  this  dis- 
covery meant  to  his  own  household.  Now  at  the  king's  in- 
vitation he  had  a  question  to  ask  of  Maraida. 

"To  how  many  persons  has  this  secret  been  known?"  he 
asked. 

"I  dared  not  tell  the  queen  of  my  error,"  she  answered, 
"and  so  for  many  years  the  secret  was  my  own.  A  year 
ago  I  revealed  it  unto  Neboakhu  the  chief  priest  and  a  few 
days  since  I  told  it  unto  thy  daughter,  but  forbade  her  re- 
peating it.  When  from  her  I  learned  the  babe  was  the  only 
heir  of  King  David  I  sought  out  Queen  Nitocris  and  told  her 
all." 

"Had  the  queen  never  suspected  it?" 

"She  had  not.  From  the  night  of  her  husband's  murder  until 
the  child  had  grown  to  manhood  she  saw  him  little.  Even  if  the 
children  had  not  so  closely  resembled  each  other  she  could  not 
have  discovered  my  mistake,  for  after  the  murder  the  child 
was  taken  away  from  her." 

Cyrus  waited  a  moment  for  other  questions,  but  no  more 
were  put  to  her. 

"Come  Prince,  we  must  borrow  thy  hip,"  he  said. 

The  young  man  arose  to  exhibit  the  proof  of  his  birth. 
Maraida  turned  to  go  but  again  Cyrus  restrained  her. 

"We  must  have  thee  here  to  identify  the  mark,"  he  said. 

Zerubbabel  opened  his  gown  and  pushed  back  his  inner  gar- 
ment sufficient  to  show  his  hip.  There,  glowing  upon  it,  was 
the  mark  of  his  birth,  a  blood-red  human  hand. 

Maraida  bowed  to  show  her  identification  and  instantly  left 
the  room. 

Joshua,  the  young  high  priest,  now  sought  attention  and  told 
them  of  his  interview  with  the  wife  of  Shealtiel.  She,  he  said, 


38o  RHESA 

had  dwelt  emphatically  upon  the  birthmark  and  had  told  him 
of  the  pre-natal  influence  which  caused  it. 

"We  are  satisfied,"  called  several  of  the  Jews  as  their  high 
priest  finished  speaking. 

Zerubbabel  resumed  his  seat  and  Cyrus  took  his  place  be- 
side him  upon  the  throne  formerly  occupied  by  Nabonidos. 
For  upwards  of  two  hours  longer  the  conference  lasted.  They 
discussed  the  return  of  the  Jews  in  a  general  way.  All  present 
realized  the  impossibility  of  making  any  definite  plans  thus 
early.  There  were  important  matters  before  them  demand- 
ing months  for  settlement.  The  task  of  enrolling  the  scat- 
tered remnants  of  King  David's  once  proud  nation  alone  was 
one  requiring  much  time  and  labor.  Shortly  before  noon  the 
meeting  was  declared  over. 

As  Zerubbabel  stepped  down  from  the  platform  the  first 
to  greet  him  was  Nehum.  After  embracing  him  the  old 
man  said: 

"My  Prince,  joyful  as  I  am  to  find  in  thy  person  the  son  of 
David,  the  tidings  Daniel  gave  me  this  morning  cause  me 
greater  joy." 

The  prince  smiled  but  made  no  reply. 

"Present  me,  good  Nehum,"  said  a  voice  near  at  hand. 

A  moment  later  Zerubbabel,  the  prince,  and  Joshua,  the  high 
priest  of  the  Restoration,  stood  with  clasped  hands.  The  greet- 
ings of  the  noble  young  priest  were  none  the  less  cordial  be- 
cause the  man  before  him  was  the  accepted  lover  of  the 
woman  he  himself  had  hoped  to  win. 

"Thou  wilt  dine  with  me  today?"  said  Nehum,  after  the 
Jews  had  one  by  one  greeted  their  prince. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  accept  thy  invitation,"  was  the  reply. 

"We  seek  thy  company  to  grace  our  table,"  said  King  Cyrus, 
coming  up  at  this  moment. 

"I  thank  thee  King,  but  I  have  already  promised  to  ac- 
company worthy  Nehum  to  his  home,"  replied  the  prince. 

"Ah,"  said  the  conqueror  smiling,  "I  would  I  had  a  black- 


THE  CAMP  AT  CARCHEMISH  381 

eyed  daughter.  Then  perhaps  mine  invitation  would  be  ac- 
cepted." 

The  prince  smiled  as  he  turned  away  from  the  monarch 
to  follow  the  aged  Jew. 

Upon  their  arrival  at  Nehum's  residence  the  old  man  showed 
his  guest  into  the  reception  room  bidding  him  there  await  the 
call  to  dinner.  Some  moments  after  his  host  left  him  Zerub- 
babel  heard  a  light  footstep  and  turned  toward  the  door  as 
Orma  came  through  it.  He  opened  his  arms.  Another  moment 
and  the  woman  of  his  heart  was  clasped  tightly  to  his  breast. 

"Orma,  my  love,"  he  whispered,  "hast  thou  any  more  objec- 
tions?" 

"Nay,  my  Prince,  I  am  thine,"  she  said,  looking  up  sweetly 
into  his  face. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

THE  CAMP  AT  CARCHEMISH 

Carchemish,  that  name  so  familiar  in  the  history  of  the  East, 
commanding  as  it  did  the  main  thoroughfare  from  the  valleys 
of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris  through  Syria  and  Palestine  to 
Egypt,  was  at  all  times  a  bone  of  contention  for  the  various 
conquerors  who  at  one  time  or  another  held  sway  over  the 
wonderful  Mesopotamian  plain.  It  was  presumably  added  to 
the  domain  of  Egypt  by  Pharaoh  Necho  soon  after  the  battle 
of  Megiddo  (B.  C.  608)  and  reconquered  by  Nebuchadnezzar 
three  years  later.  From  that  time  until  Babylon  fell  it  probably 
remained  true  in  its  allegiance. 

So  often  the  scene  of  military  camps  and  headquarters,  it  was 
now  (early  in  the  year  B.  C.  536)  the  temporary  camping  place 
of  a  vastly  different  expedition.  The  great  plain  without  the 
city  was  covered  with  tents  and  pavilions,  while  thousands  of 
horses,  mules,  camels  and  asses  were  tethered  upon  the  out- 
skirts of  the  camp. 


382  RHESA 

In  the  center  of  the  encampment  a  group  of  tents  surround- 
ing on  three  sides  a  large  central  pavilion  gave  evidence  that 
here  lodged  the  leader  of  the  expedition.  Before  the  large 
pavilion  a  young  man  paced  up  and  down  in  an  agitated  man- 
ner. He  was  clad  simply  in  flowing  robes,  while  a  silken  hood 
was  thrown  loosely  over  his  head.  Upon  his  feet  he  wore  plain 
leather  sandals  fastened  over  his  instep  with  broad  bands  of 
embroidered  leather.  The  leader  of  the  expedition  was  none 
other  than  he  whose  fortunes  we  have  been  following  under 
his  various  names  but  now  known  by  his  true  one,  Zerubbabel. 

As  he  paced  thus  before  his  lodging  place  his  mind  dwelt 
upon  the  scenes  of  his  life  that  led  up  to  his  present  position. 
He  lived  through  those  scenes  again.  He  saw  himself  again 
upon  the  desert;  he  heard  again  the  faint  cry  for  help;  he 
saw  Orma  lying  helpless  upon  the  sand.  He  lived  again 
those  awful  moments  in  the  drowning  chamber;  he  saw  him- 
self hurrying  through  the  Hanging  Gardens  bearing  his  loved 
one  in  his  arms  and  he  saw,  with  a  shudder,  himself  plunge 
a  knife  into  the  back  of  a  fellow  man.  He  lived  again  those 
eventful  days  preceding  and  including  the  fall  of  Babylon. 
But  more  particularly  his  mind  dwelt  upon  the  last  day, 
the  day  of  their  start. 

He  saw  the  long  cavalcade  as  it  passed  slowly  out  through 
the  Sippara  gate.  He  saw  himself  as  he  stopped  at  the  gate 
to  say  farewell  to  those  friends  who  were  not  to  accompany 
him.  There  was  Daniel  who  was  to  remain  and  live  through 
wonderful  experiences.  There  were  Belibus  and  Halista,  man 
and  wife,  the  gallant  soldier  a  high  officer  under  Cyrus.  As  he 
thought  of  this  wonderful  pair  he  became  sad  that  both  still 
worshiped  Bel.  He  saw  the  aged  banker,  Egibi,  as  he  bade 
the  prince  farewell.  Thoughts  of  the  banker  suggested  the 
fortune  of  Neboakhu,  which  at  this  moment  was  stored  in 
the  camp  destined  to  play  an  important  part  in  the  reestab- 
lishment  of  the  Jewish  people.  He  thought  of  Heber  and 
his  wife  Tirmar,  both  left  behind  to  remain  in  the  service 
of  Cyrus.  He  thought  of  the  ugly  little  dwarf,  Ulbar,  who 


THE  CAMP  AT  CARCHEMISH  383 

had  saved  his  life,  and  he  thought  of  the  indolent  monarch 
whom  he  had  considered  his  enemy  but  who  through  all 
had  been  his  friend.  He  remembered  the  poor  lunatic  he 
had  seen  led  from  Belshazzar's  banquet  hall.  Thought  of 
the  father  brought  the  son  to  mind  and  he  sighed  as  he  re- 
membered Iddin's  sacrifice.  Last  of  all  he  thought  of  the 
noble  conqueror  who  had  been  so  kind  and  generous.  Cyrus 
had  been  present  at  the  gate  to  bid  them  Godspeed. 

His  reverie  was  interrupted  by  a  woman  coming  out  of  the 
pavilion.  He  turned  quickly  to  greet  her.  It  was  Maraida. 
She  approached  the  prince  and  with  a  profound  bow  said: 
"It  is  over,  sir.  Thou  hast  a  son.  Now  thou  mayest  enter." 

A  look  of  mingled  joy  and  relief  came  into  his  face  as  he 
turned  to  follow  her.  He  passed  quickly  into  the  tent  and 
knelt  before  a  simple  couch  in  the  farther  corner. 

Orma  lay  back  upon  her  pillow  weak  and  faint  from  her 
hour  of  trial,  but  upon  her  face  was  the  radiant  smile  of 
motherhood,  reflected  from  a  heart  overflowing  with  maternal 
love.  Beside  her,  closely  nestled  against  her  breast  was  the 
tiny  being  just  born  into  the  world. 

Zerubbabel  leaned  over  tenderly  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon 
the  fair  white  forehead  of  his  wife  and  another  upon  the  tiny 
pink  cheek  of  his  first-born. 

"I  thank  thee,  O  my  love,  for  my  son,"  he  whispered. 

A  loving  smile  was  the  only  answer  he  received  from  Orma's 
pale  lips.  Then,  as  he  still  knelt,  from  a  heart  overflowing 
with  gratitude,  he  poured  forth  a  prayer  of  thanks  to  his  God 
who  had  brought  his  loved  one  through  her  trial  in  safety  and 
given  him  a  son. 

The  child  thus  born  while  the  Jews  were  journeying  to 
their  own  land  was  named  Hananiah  (whom  Jehovah  has 
graciously  given).  Seventeen  generations  later  a  descendant 
of  this  babe,  named  Mary,  gave  birth  to  a  son,  who  was  called 
Jesus.  He  it  is  who  is  the  Savior  of  the  World. 

FINIS 


A     000  11 1  577 


